Desert Beauty
by Amarin Rose
Summary: Switch: Part 2 Pairings: Malik–Duke, B–R, Y–Y, S–M Summary: Facts about Malik: Tomb–keeper? Check. Wielder of the Millennium Rod? Check. Marik's Hikari? Check. Formerly one of Pharaoh's greatest enemies? Check. Male? Er...well, not since Marik got mad...
1. A Vexing Situation

**A Vexing Situation**

* * *

**In Which Malik Is In Turns Both Cursed And Blessed**

* * *

_Christine__ Jorgensen__ was the very first male-to-female sex-change patient._

* * *

**Japanese**

Ano – Um…  
Gomen Nasaii – I'm very sorry  
Iya – (Very Emphatic) No  
Sugoi! – All right/Awesome!

* * *

"Okay, guys, get ready," Joey directed his friends. After checking to make sure that they were – Tristan was holding his bucket, a maniacal grin on his face; Yugi holding his with an expression that was half-exhilarated, half-worried; and Téa was pointedly standing off to the side, not wanting to be labeled as an accomplice (but still wanting to see the show) – he knocked briskly at the door.

When a few minutes had passed with no sign of the house's occupant, Joey knocked again, louder. This time a rather loud thump reached their ears, followed by a muffled curse. The sound of feet padding down the stairs and across the floor was heard, and then suddenly the door was thrown open.

Quickly ducking out of the way, Joey watched with unbridled glee as Tristan and Yugi drenched their target from head to toe with the water in their buckets.

"Wha…?"

Duke stood there, wearing nothing but a pair of half-buttoned, worn and torn black jeans and a white undershirt that was now completely soaked. The water made them stick to his lanky frame, outlining the sleek muscles in his torso. The majority of his hair had escaped the watery attack, but his face was still dripping wet.

Joey and Tristan were laughing their heads off at Duke's dumbfounded, half-asleep expression. Yugi was trying in vain to hold back his giggles, and Téa, for her part, was surreptitiously checking out Duke's chest, which was clearly defined by the wet, now transparent shirt plastered to its well-muscled surface.

Duke opened his mouth, presumably to demand an explanation, but was interrupted by the sound of a feminine voice. "What the hell is going on here?" the grumpy voice snarled. It was accompanied by the sound of someone striding towards the doorway. Joey, Tristan, and the other pranksters all craned their necks, trying to see who this girl was that was apparently living with Duke. Duke, however, had a look of mildly stunned terror on his face as the bearer of that voice rounded the corner, saying, "It sounds like a pack of hyenas is…" The voice trailed off as she caught sight of who was at the door.

When they saw who the 'girl' was, expressions of stunned shock crossed all their faces.

Téa gasped.

Joey's jaw dropped, and Tristan's wasn't far behind him.

Yugi's eyes went as wide as saucers and he uttered a barely audible squeak.

She was little more than five feet tall, platinum blond hair hanging down to her shoulderblades. She was wearing a dark purple T-shirt and a pair of plaid boxers; her feet were bare. Her eyes – which had previously been obscured by her hands rubbing the sleep out of them – were a familiar shade of violet. And her face – which had been revealed when she removed her hands from her eyes – was caught mid-yawn, wearing an expression of surprised horror somewhat alike to that of the four teens outside.

"M-Malik?" Tristan croaked.

Her 'rabbit caught in the headlights' look vanished and she appeared to deflate. Sighing, Malik said tiredly, "Yeah, it's me, Taylor."

"What…what **happened**?" Yugi asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the astonishment from his voice.

Duke, who up until this moment had been silent, broke in with, "Let's get inside before we attract a crowd. Almost no one gets up this early in the summertime, but better safe than sorry."

The four teens nodded jerkily and followed the voice of reason inside the small game shop's apartment.

"I'm, uh…going to go get dressed," Malik said, obviously discomfited. "Uh…be back in a minute." And with that, she ran off up the stairs, most likely relieved to be away from the quadruple-strength stares she was receiving.

"We'll explain everything when Malik gets back," Duke promised them, before heading into the kitchen, making noises of disgust as he saw the trail of water he'd left behind him.

The four friends followed Duke silently, content to wait for an explanation, now that they had been assured of getting one.

Sighing, Duke told hold of his shirt hem and proceeded to peel the soaking wet cloth from his body. Squeezing out the water over the sink, he tossed the now-just-damp garment into an empty basket on top of the washing machine, and grabbed a dishtowel from a hook over the sink. Turning back to the group, he demanded, "What the hell were you guys thinking, huh?" while simultaneously mopping up the worst of the water from his chest, face and hair.

Téa stopped her surreptitious peeking and started opening ogling once she saw that Duke was immersed in trying to dry his hair and wasn't even looking at any of them.

"Ano… April Fools?" Joey offered, still slightly off-kilter from seeing Malik as a girl…and a very pretty girl, at that.

Duke gave the blond a pointed glare. "It's July, Wheeler."

Yugi sighed in exasperation, having finally managed to throw off his shock. " Joey got bored and decided it would be fun to play a prank on someone," he explained.

"He originally wanted to prank Kaiba, but there's a gate around his mansion," Tristan added, though from the distant tone of his voice it was obvious he wasn't quite all there yet. Some part of his brain was still focused on processing the vision of Egyptian – and surprisingly **female** – loveliness that had just vacated the entryway.

"Plus, he's dating Mai, and she managed to convince him to take a whole weekend off, so they're not there anyway," Téa concluded.

Duke snorted, and, taking one last swipe at a few rogue droplets of water on his left shoulder, started rummaging through the open dryer door. Pulling out a short-sleeved red shirt, he slipped it on, not bothering to do up the buttons. "Yeah, I heard about that. How they managed to keep it a secret for so long I'll never know."

"Kaiba doesn't like broadcasting the details of his personal life," Yugi said in the CEO's defense.

"No, I mean Mai," Duke clarified. "I didn't think she was the type to put up with hiding a relationship like some dirty little secret. Not that their relationship is, but it's the stigma attached to it I'm thinking of."

Any further discussion of Kaiba and Mai's relationship was cut short by Malik's return. The young **woman** was now wearing a pair of form-fitting jeans under the same purple T-shirt. Her feet were still bare, and her formerly bed-mussed hair had been pulled back into a ponytail of white-blond curls. Walking into the kitchen, she leaned against their counter and crossed her arms over her ample chest. Her gaze was focused on the floor, obviously uncomfortable at the scrutiny she was under. "Hey," she said softly, her voice nowhere near as husky as it used to be.

"Hey, Malik," Téa said kindly, wanting to let her know at least one person in the room wasn't freaking out. After all, it wasn't like something similar to this hadn't happened less than three months ago, right?

Except in Bakura's case, she'd **always** been a girl. Aside from the few years where she and Ryou had shared a body, anyway.

The corners of Malik's lips raised up a microscopic amount. "Hey, Téa."

"Are you…dealing with this all right?" she asked sympathetically.

"Better than when it first happened," Malik said honestly.

"How did…dis…happen anyway?" Joey broke in.

Malik's answer was a succinct, one-word growl. "Marik."

"Ah. The Rod?" Tristan said more than asked.

Malik's response was a curt nod.

"But why?" Joey asked. "I t'ought you guys weren't fightin' or anythin' anymore."

Malik's grimace was more cute than it had any right to be. Fortunately for their continued existence, the group managed to restrain themselves from telling her this. "The thing no one really knew about Marik was **exactly** how different he was from the other yamis," she started. "Marik was created when I was eight years old – and for some reason, unlike Bakura and Yami, wasn't able to draw on my knowledge as easily as they did, so he's pretty much been a kid for the last decade. It's only now that he's got his own body that he's able to start growing up."

"Yer kiddin'," Joey said, the shock on his face mirroring that on his friends'.

Raising one platinum eyebrow, Malik said, "Why do you think he wanted to become Pharaoh and take over the world? When you're a kid, all the stories have the bad guy wanting to kill the good guy and take over the world; Marik had cast himself in the role as the bad guy, therefore he wanted Yami dead, and to rule the world."

"I thought you were the one who wanted to be Pharaoh," Tristan said.

Malik shook her head. "That was Marik."

"But why did he turn you into a girl?" Yugi asked. "And what are you doing living with Duke?"

"One thing at a time," the aforementioned dice duelist said. "Let's all go sit down and we can talk about this while I make breakfast."

"Yeah, food!" Joey cheered, causing everyone to roll their eyes.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, after Duke and Malik had fixed breakfast – completely vegetarian, as it seemed the dice duelist also wasn't fond of meat – they were all seated at the breakfast nook in the kitchen. Malik and Duke were perched on stools at the kitchen counter, the others crowded around the small table.

"So, let me get this straight," Joey said, for once not talking with his mouth full. "Marik got mad at you for spending so much time with Bakura–"

"I wasn't spending any more time with Bakura than **he** was," Malik broke in.

"–and decided that if you were a girl you wouldn't like her anymore?" the blond finished. "I t'ink I missed somptin'." He picked up a piece of toast and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully.

"You don't understand the way Marik's mind works," Malik said, rolling her eyes.

"Who'd want to?" Téa asked rhetorically, and they all chuckled.

"But you're right, there was more to it," Malik admitted on a sigh. "Marik is very…clingy and needy. He likes attention; surely you've noticed how he liked to make a spectacle of everything?"

The four friends nodded, Joey grimacing at the reminder of his being used as Marik's pawn.

Nodding in compassion at the blond, Malik went on, "Marik liked me paying attention to him more than anything else, and he hated it when he thought I was ignoring him. And for some Ra-only-knows-why reason Marik thought I had a **thing** for Bakura. Never mind the fact that Bakura is dating Ryou – and quite happily, mind you – or the fact that I'm not attracted to her at all. In Malik's mind, I was spending too much time with her–"

"And not enough time with **him**," Duke cut in.

Malik nodded and continued, "–and he latched onto the one thing that he thought would get me to stop quote-unquote **ignoring** him." Growling softly, she snatched up a rind of cantaloupe and bit into it savagely, apparently taking out her frustration at the situation on the innocent orange fruit.

"Which was?" Yugi prompted.

"Apparently Marik thought that if Malik were a girl, he wouldn't **like** girls anymore, and he'd be too embarrassed to leave the house as **she** was, so Marik would have her all to himself," Duke explained, obviously having heard this story before. Grabbing the milk jug, he poured himself a glass and went back to eating his scrambled eggs.

Rolling her eyes, Malik said, "Just more proof of his idiocy," causing both her and Duke to smile and shake their heads at some shared secret joke.

"But if he used da Rod to change ya into a girl, why didn't **you** use it to change yerself back?" Joey asked.

"It doesn't work like that," Malik griped. "Marik was the one who changed me and Marik is the one who has to change me back. I tried everything I could think of to get him to do it, too, but he refused. Finally he took off – with the Rod – and I haven't seen him since."

"So you might be stuck like this forever?" Téa asked softly.

Malik's headshake was full of conviction. "No, he'll come back eventually. He does this every so often; goes out and sulks for a few days – or weeks, in this case – and then comes back home and acts as if nothing is wrong. When he comes back this time he'll be willing to change me back."

The four friends didn't look convinced.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Malik said patiently, "Marik would never do anything to hurt me. At least not now. He's just…going through a rebellious teenager phase combined with the neediness and attention-seeking behavior of a five-year-old. In a few years he'll have his emotions and everything all sorted out and settle down."

They all nodded, reluctantly accepting Malik's words as the truth.

"So," Tristan started. "If Marik's going to come back home – and most likely soon – why aren't you back there waiting for him?"

Malik pulled a face and fiddled with her fork, stabbing it almost hatefully into her bowl of steamed rice. Minus the accompanying scrambled egg topping, of course. "I couldn't take Isis anymore," she revealed.

"What about her?" Yugi asked gently. "Did she…not take your transformation well?"

Malik huffed. "Well? **She** took it better than **I** did!" Rounding on the shorter duelist, Malik demanded, "Do you know what she wanted to do? Do you?"

"Iya," Yugi said nervously, frantically shaking his head.

"She wanted to take me…**shopping**," Malik breathed, scandalized, as if the word 'shopping' was synonymous with 'certain death.'

Of course, to a lot of men, it was…

"Well, you're a girl now, you'll probably need different…clothes," Téa said, squeaking out the last word when Malik turned her attention on her, prompting her to change what she was saying.

"I don't **care** how well…endowed…this body is, I'm not going to wear a **bra**, and she can't make me!" Malik stated petulantly, crossing her arms over her rather…overly-developed chest.

"As long as you don't go home," Joey clarified.

Malik just glared at him.

"Which explains **why** you're staying with Duke, but how did you two come to this…arrangement, anyway?" Tristan asked.

Malik grimaced and turned away, refusing to answer.

Duke cleared his throat and swiveled on his seat to face them. "Well, you see, I found him outside a bar, obviously drunk off his ass–"

"Women have a lower tolerance for alcohol than men – I just didn't realize how **much** lower," Malik interjected, adding under her breath, "Two beers. **Two** beers didn't even used to be enough to get me slightly buzzed, let alone intoxicated."

Flashing his roommate an annoyed glance, Duke continued, "–drunk off his ass, trying to fend off a rather amorous suitor who'd had even more to drink than she had."

"I didn't need your help, I was doing just fine," Malik said petulantly. It was obvious to the others that this was an old argument.

Duke nodded sagely. "Ah, yes, I believe your exact words were 'I can defend my own honor, you jackass.'"

Téa giggled, and Yugi snorted.

"But," Duke continued on. "I didn't know it was you, and even if I had, I still would've thrown that die at the creep's head. He was three times your size!"

"I could have taken him," Malik insisted. "Though I probably would have sprained something doing it," she added ruefully.

"We're missing something again," Tristan put in. "What happened between you getting changed into a girl and going to that bar?"

"And how did you end up staying with Duke?" Joey added, repeating his friend's original question.

"I left because of Isis," Malik reminded them. "I decided to go out and drown my sorrows, and then get a hotel room for the night so I wouldn't have to put up with her for at least a day." She scrubbed her hands across her face in remembered exhaustion.

"Was Rishid any help at all?" Yugi asked.

Malik perked up at this question. "Rishid has been a rock throughout this whole thing," she declared. "Once he knew what Marik did, he didn't stay around to try and 'help me through this' like Isis, **he** went out hunting for Marik so 'this' wouldn't have to last any longer than necessary. And he didn't try and treat me any different, like Isis did. He just said, ' Master Malik, I shall go out and look for Master Marik. I will not rest until I find him,' which made me feel a whole damn lot better than Isis offering to take me clothes shopping." She glowered at the mention of this last.

"Girl clothes shopping?" Tristan qualified.

Malik nodded in reluctance. "Yeah. I'm male, only a girl biologically, and out of everyone who knows about this…situation…Rishid is the only one who still treats me exactly the same as he did before." She smirked and rolled her eyes. "Of course, if he'd **tried** calling me ' **Mistress** Malik,' brother or no, I would have decked him, and he knew it." Scrunching her nose up in a frown that was still too cute to be believed, especially considering her displeasure with the situation, she sighed, tapping one finger against her chin in thought. "I still haven't figured out a way to get him not to call me that."

"Master?" Duke asked in clarification.

She flicked her eyes over to him and nodded. "I've thought about ordering him not to, but I don't think he'd listen, and it would be counterproductive to my purpose."

Nodding in agreement with the other girl's assessment, Téa prompted, "So, Duke 'rescued' you and then…?"

"And then he noticed who I was," Malik said with a smirk. "And he fell on his ass."

Duke's glare was without heat. "It's kind of shocking to meet up with someone you know who's apparently undergone a sex change, Ishtar," he said dryly. "And you threatening to 'remove my spine and shove it back up my ass until it was in place again' didn't help matters."

Joey turned positively green.

"Eeww," Tristan agreed, shoving a napkin at his friend in case the blond felt sick.

"That was a really good threat, wasn't it?" Malik said reminiscently, not noticing the four friends' distress. "I always seem to come up with the best ones when I'm drunk, and then I can't remember them later," she complained.

"But back to how you ended up staying here," Téa insisted, not wanting Malik to go off on a tangent that…creepy.

"Right, so Duke fell on his ass," Malik took up where she left off. "And after a few minutes of drunken bantering, he said I was too punchy for him to just leave me there, and invited me to spend the night in his guest room."

"I take it ya accepted his offer," Joey stated.

Nodding, Malik continued, "I was tired and didn't really want to try and track down a motel. The next morning, he insisted on hearing the whole story, and rather graciously allowed me to stay here until Marik gets back in return for helping him out in the shop."

"And Malik is a very good clerk, too," Duke added with satisfaction. "I've sold more merchandise these past two weeks than in the whole month previous."

Malik frowned, saying sourly, "It's only because all those boys keep coming in to **stare** at me. I keep waiting for one of them to try and touch me so I can kill them."

"Killing the customers is bad for business," Duke said blandly, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Suddenly smirking, Malik said, "Fine. I won't kill them…"

"Or maim them," Duke threw in.

"I won't even maim them," Malik agreed. "If one of them tries anything I'll just tell them I'm really a guy." Her grin was reminiscent of a cat who had gotten both the cream **and** the canary – and not gotten caught.

Joey snorted. "What, ya can't even put up wit' a few guys checkin' ya out without wantin' ta kill 'em?"

"Well, I **have** managed to keep from killing, maiming or otherwise mutilating you and Taylor, now haven't I?" Malik said pointedly, voice sugar-sweet with veiled poison.

Joey flushed.

Tristan choked and loudly cleared his throat to cover up his laughter.

"And it's not the fact that guys are checking me out that bothers me; it's that they are so **obvious **about it," Malik went on. "I mean, whatever happened to the fine art of subtlety?"

"It got steam-rollered over by the not-so-fine act of blatant ogling," Téa quipped.

Yugi snickered.

"So you have no problem with guys finding you attractive?" Joey asked, confused.

"I am secure enough in my masculinity to realize that I look **damn** fine no matter what gender I am," Malik said smugly.

"But not so secure that you'd dress like a girl," Tristan cracked.

Malik's eyebrows rose in exasperation. "I'm wearing jeans and a T-shirt – which, you know, is exactly what Téa is wearing. How, exactly, am I not 'dressing like a girl'?"

"Ya were da one who mentioned ya weren't wearing a bra," Joey pointed out, taking the opportunity to not-so-surreptitiously check out the Egyptian's attributes again.

"Not that it isn't obviously apparent," Tristan murmured, joining Joey in his endeavors, though with a bit more subtlety than his blond friend.

For some reason – known only to God and **maybe** Malik (but let's not hold our breath on that last) – Malik turned to Téa for help. "Téa," she said bluntly. "Are bras comfortable?"

Téa blinked, her eyes widening and then going back to normal as she stared at the other girl as one would at a particularly interesting bug who'd just buzzed right in your ear. Finally her expression smoothed out into a bland mask and she coughed once before finally saying, "Well…after a few months of wearing them all day everyday…you **still** want to rip them off and banish them to the Shadow Realm."

"I take it that's a 'No,'" Duke drawled wryly, taking a long sip from his coffee cup.

"Exactly!" Malik pronounced. "I may have to put up with a body that's not mine, and therefore uncomfortable; I don't have to add to it with irritating undergarments. My body is already in enough discomfort without purposely making it worse."

"Is it really that bad?" Tristan asked, in a strange show of compassion.

Malik sighed and hopped up to perch on top of the counter. She grabbed an orange from the bowl next to her and began to peel it with her pocketknife. "Not entirely, no. But it's like human bodies are computers and female bodies are running on a completely different set of software than male bodies. For one thing, I can't figure out why my back hurts so much – and right in the middle, too," Malik said, abandoning her fruit and reaching over her shoulder to massage the affected area. Which consequently pulled her T-shirt taut across her braless chest.

"That's your lumbar region," Joey put in, eyes glazed over slightly at the sight. "Those 'attributes' you keep griping about put pressure on it, that's why it hurts."

Duke gave Joey a sideways glance. "How do **you** know that, Joey?"

An expression of mild panic crossed the blond's face before he said, "Ah, I have a younger sister, remember?"

Frowning at the answer, because even she could tell it was lame, Téa nonetheless decided to forgo interrogating Joey for continuing their conversation with Malik. "That's one of the reasons why women wear bras," she revealed. "It cuts down on the muscle aches."

A sulky pout crossed Malik's face. "But Bakura doesn't wear one," she protested.

"I know," Tristan mumbled, a similar glazed look to the one worn by Joey coming over his eyes.

Unlike in times previous, instead of joining Tristan in his salivation, Joey elbowed him in the side. "Man, ya really need ta stop thinkin' about other girls if ya ever want mah sister ta go out wit' ya."

Tristan shot him an inscrutable look. "I thought you didn't like the idea of me dating your sister?"

Joey shrugged, his affected nonchalance ruined by how tense he obviously was. "I don't. But ya like her, and if she likes ya, den I'll deal wit' it." His conciliatory words were belied by his pensive frown, but Tristan didn't comment on it.

"If you're through," Téa said pointedly, and in response to the two boy's nods, continued, "Unlike Bakura, you are, to use your own words 'well-endowed.' Bakura can get away with going au natural because she's one step from flat-chested; not even an A. You, on the other hand, are at least a B cup, possibly a C. If you don't start wearing **something**, your back problems could get even worse."

Malik grimaced and went back to stabbing and eating pieces of her citrus fruit. "If Marik hasn't come back in a few weeks…I'll think about it," she said finally, once all the orange slices had been eaten.

"Well, speaking of Bakura…do she and Ryou know about your transformation?" Yugi asked, sensing Malik was uncomfortable with the current topic. "I know you and Marik have been spending a lot of time with them."

"I haven't talked to them since four weeks ago Tuesday," Malik admitted. "The next day Marik did a Christine Jorgensen on me, and Bakura ended up canceling our regular Thursday afternoon motorcycle-driving lesson so I didn't see either of them then. By Saturday I'd ended up here, and aside from calling Isis to let her know and where I was and that I was okay, I haven't talked to anyone except Duke since." She appeared rather upset by that, but determined not to let it show.

"You **should** call them, you know, they're your friends," Duke said, his tone indicating that this was also an old argument. "They're probably wondering what the hell happened to you – and Marik."

Malik made a sound not unlike that of an angry cat. "I don't want to," she said matter-of-factly. "I don't want to explain any of this to them; I don't want anyone to **know**."

"Well, **we** know now," Joey pointed out rather unwisely.

"Yes, I know," Malik replied, voice flat. "And I wish you didn't."

"Are you really hating this whole thing that much?" Téa asked sympathetically.

Heaving a sigh, Malik said, "It's not that bad, I suppose, it's just…everyone went kind of odd once they found out about Bakura, and despite the fact that she never said anything, I know it hurt her to have you all treating her differently. Or not differently, as the case may be. She's finally starting to get over that, and I don't want to remind her of it."

Tristan quirked an eyebrow in question. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Yami crushed all the evil out of her and Marik, right?" Duke stated, obviously knowing where Malik was going with this line of thought.

"Yeah," Yugi said, and the others nodded.

"Then why do you all still treat them both as if they're evil?" Malik asked.

"I…" Joey started, but was unable to find the words to finish.

"We don't…" Tristan trailed off, also at a loss.

"Well, if you don't think they're evil, then why have you been avoiding them?" Malik demanded. "And by extension, Ryou and I?"

"We haven't…not entirely," Téa defended the group as a whole.

"Oh, right, I forgot; you went to see Ryou and Bakura about seven weeks ago," Malik said brightly. "And then you went to a movie the following weekend, and after that…nothing. This is actually the first **I've** heard from you since that day in the park, and it wasn't even me you were heading to see."

Téa and Yugi ducked their heads in shame. Joey and Tristan looked at a loss for words.

Malik sighed. "I know you're not excluding us on purpose; you've just known each other longer than the rest of us. Face it, you guys; you four and Yami have your own little close-knit group. Hell, even the Kaibas, Mai, and Duke to an extent are part of your little inner circle. Ryou, Bakura, Marik and I…we're all on the outside."

"I…there really isn't any excuse I can give for that," Yugi admitted.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Moto," Malik told him. "Like I said, we know you're not doing it on purpose. You just need to realize that you **are** doing it. Bakura was rather pissed at the treatment she received from some of you when you found out the truth about her gender; I personally didn't relish going through the same thing."

"Treatment?" Yugi asked uncomprehendingly.

"The fact that both Wheeler and Taylor couldn't take their eyes off her breasts," Duke said candidly. "They're doing the same thing with Malik."

Involuntarily both the aforementioned boys' eyes focused on Malik's 'attributes,' before they flushed guiltily and looked away.

"Exactly," Malik agreed. "All of a sudden I have breasts and you're acting like I'm a completely different person. And Bakura went through the same thing. If **I** find it degrading, I can only imagine how Bakura feels. I'm not even a real woman, and once Marik gets back I won't have to deal with this anymore; she'll have to for years to come. If even you, my so-called **friends** can't stop staring at me, how the hell do you expect me to be okay with this?"

"Ano…we're sorry?" Joey offered lamely.

"Gomen nasaii," Tristan chimed in.

Malik pursed her lips. "Oh, **that** was sincere," she said sourly.

Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Yugi said, "Ah…not that I don't think you a have a right not to be stared at, but…what does that have to do with you not contacting Ryou and Bakura?"

"I didn't want to have to deal with **this**!" Malik exclaimed, gesturing to the two previously chastised boys. "The more people who know a secret, the harder it is to keep quiet. When Ryou was the only one who knew Bakura was a girl, no one else did; then we all found out, and now Isis and Rishid know, and Mai found out… Not that she's trying to keep her gender a secret any longer, but **I** am."

"Why?" Téa asked. "I mean, who would understand about out of control Shadow Magic better than us?"

"Ah, but that's just it," Duke cut in. "**We** understand about Shadow Magic…but no one else does. This isn't _Ranma ½_ and there aren't any cursed springs nearby. How would you explain someone's gender changing to the average guy off the street?"

"You wouldn't?" Joey said feebly.

"Precisely," Malik agreed. " Isis' boss at the museum, the lady who lives in the apartment next to ours, the mailman… All those people who I run into on a regular basis, and would take one look at me and realize that I'm not 'Malik's cousin Malia, from out of town,' but, in fact, Malik **herself**."

"You don't want it to get back to them, but if you told any of us, then it might?" Yugi worked out.

Malik nodded.

"I see what you mean," Téa said. "But the fact of the matter is that even if anyone not in the know **did** find out…they wouldn't believe it," she pointed out.

"I didn't want to take any chances," Malik said. "Besides, I didn't think Marik would stay away this long; no point in explaining this to everyone if I was going to be back to my old self in a few days. I just wish you would all **treat** me like my old self."

"We said we were sorry," Joey protested.

"I know, I know, but it's still infuriating," Malik stated.

A loud, fast-sounding rattle followed by a small explosion reached their ears.

"Speaking of infuriating…" Duke groaned.

"Not again!" Malik exclaimed.

Sighing, Duke said, "Yes, again, I am afraid. I'll get the wrench…" He heaved himself up from the stool.

"I'll get the screwdriver…" Malik continued, jumping off the countertop.

"…and we'll meet in the living room," they finished together in a dull chorus, heading out of the kitchen and parting ways at the door.

The four friends exchanged confused glances. After a few minutes had passed, they followed the two roommates out into the living room. They found Duke underneath the window-mounted air conditioner, lying on his back, Malik perched above it on a step-ladder. The slow rattling sound that had taken up where the faster sounding one left off, seemed to be coming from the air-cooling device.

"You got it?" Malik asked.

Raising the wrench and twisting something inside the appliance, Duke gave a short nod. "Yeah, I got it."

"Okay, I'm gonna unscrew the cap, and then you twist it back around, right?" Malik inquired, voice distracted.

"Right," Duke confirmed.

Bending farther over the white plastic box, Malik twirled the screwdriver around with her left hand and lifted out a black metal plate with her right. "Go," she said.

Duke reached up and again twisted something. The slow rattling sound halted, and both he and Malik grinned.

"Okay, let me just get this plate back into place and we're in business," Malik said briskly.

"Yeah, until it happens again," Duke groused, slipping out from underneath the air conditioner and rising to his feet.

"Isn't the repairman supposed to be coming Friday?" Malik asked, screwdriver efficiently affixing the plate back into place.

"Supposedly," Duke agreed.

Malik finished putting the plate back into place, and both she and Duke closed the lid on the air conditioner.

"Ano…this has happened before, I take it?" Yugi asked.

Startled, the two roommates turned towards the four friends.

"Ah, yeah," Duke agreed.

"Six times since I've been here," Malik added.

"And twice the week before," Duke finished. "Which is the only reason I don't think she's a jinx." He chuckled.

Malik scowled. "Aside from the fact that I've doubled your sales in the shop."

Duke rolled his eyes; this was obviously yet **another** old argument. "Yes, dear."

Joey snorted at the expression on Malik's face: half pissed off, half scowl. She'd put her hands on her hips to glare at Duke, and this pulled her T-shirt tight across her unbound breasts. The blond couldn't help but stare.

Noticing Joey's gaze, Malik growled. "I'm not a piece of meat, Wheeler, quit salivating."

Joey started and blushed. Embarrassed at having been caught – yet **again** – he got defensive by going on the offensive. "You're living with dice boy; you're tellin' me he's never tried ta take a peek?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Hey, I'll have you know I've behaved like a gentleman, thank you," Duke snapped.

"But not a 'perfect' gentleman, I see," Joey countered.

"Even I'm not arrogant enough to consider myself perfect, Wheeler," Duke scoffed, nose in the air.

Tristan coughed, the words 'Yeah, right' muffled between them.

Duke's eyes narrowed. "You two are **really** starting to get on my nerves," he said threateningly.

"They've been on mine for over half an hour," Malik murmured, glaring daggers at the blond and the brunet while idly twirling the screwdriver.

Deciding retreat was the better part of valor – and furthered existence – Yugi said, "We should be going, anyway. I promised Grandpa I'd help him in the shop today, and you two probably need to get to work as well." He gestured at Malik and Duke.

"Yeah, I probably should go in for a bit today, even if it **is** Saturday," Duke agreed pleasantly, subtly herding the four friends towards the door.

Joey and Tristan wisely took the opportunity offered them and scrammed, tossing goodbyes over their shoulders. Yugi was a bit more circumspect, staying to talk for a few moments.

"I really think you should let Ryou and Bakura know," Yugi told Malik, preparatory to his leaving. "They're your friends; I know they'd stand by you. And they could probably help you adjust to this – or at least give you some semblance of normalcy."

Malik snorted. "Normal, Moto? Since when have any of us been normal?"

Yugi just shrugged diffidently. "Couldn't hurt, anyway. Besides, they're your friends; and like you said, now that we know, it's just a matter of time before they do, too."

Sighing softly, Malik gave in. "I'll call them today," he agreed.

"Sugoi!" Yugi exclaimed, before checking his watch. "Ano…I need to get going; I was supposed to be back at the shop five minutes ago. Talk to you soon!"

And then only Téa was left.

Sensing that the brunette wanted a word alone with his houseguest, Duke busied himself putting up the tools.

Téa turned to Malik, who gave her a questioning expression.

"I just wanted to let you know that if you need any…help…during this time you could call me," Téa told her.

Seeing that the other was sincere in her offer, Malik said, "I appreciate it, but I'm not planning to be a girl for much longer. And even if I am…I can deal with it." Her jaw tightened in masculine resolve.

Téa's quirked smile and small huff crowed, 'Men!', but her voice only said, "If you're sure. Just remember you have options." Giving Duke a quick nod of farewell, she too left the house.

And then there were two.

Sighing, Malik leaned back against the closed door. "Damn, I'm glad that's over."

Mirth clear on his face, Duke said, "But it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been."

Malik only raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Both Wheeler and Taylor managed to keep their hands to themselves," Duke pointed out. "For a minute there, I wasn't sure they weren't going to try and grope you."

Eyes widening, a growl escaped Malik's throat and she pounced on him. They rolled over and over across the (thankfully carpeted) floor, finally turning up against the couch.

"This coming from the 'not-so-perfect gentleman,' hmm?" Malik asked sweetly.

Duke chuckled, not at all put off by his precarious position. "Ah, c'mon, Malik, even you have to admit you're a fox – male or female." He leered slightly, taking in the Egyptian's lithe form, which was clearly visible in the oversized clothing she was wearing.

The half-disappointed, half-disbelieving expression that flickered across the blonde's face for a fraction of a second was a surprise.

But not enough of one to keep Duke from taking advantage of his opponent's distraction. A quick twist of his hips and a flip, and he was perched above Malik, holding her arms down with his own.

Staring down at his erstwhile roommate, who lay beneath him, bemusement melted away, panting and glaring at him with an expression reminiscent of a pissed off wildcat, Duke did the only thing his short-circuited brain could think of at that moment. What he'd been thinking of doing almost since he first saw her…him. Malik.

He kissed her.


	2. Emotional Decisions

**Emotional Decisions**

* * *

**In Which Malik Is Upset And Duke Is Repentant**

* * *

_Chronologically this story takes place about a week after Thief Of My Heart Chapter 3: Wonder_

* * *

Stupid. How could she have been so stupid?

So stupid as to let Duke Devlin get that close to her.

And no, she didn't mean physically.

But she definitely should never have let him kiss her.

Even if it did feel wonderful…

Unconsciously, her fingers stroked across her lips as she relived the short, yet passionate kiss in her mind. It had been **amazing**, absolutely the most wonderful thing she'd ever felt in her life.

Not that she had all that many 'wonderful' things to compare it to. But she'd been able to believe – even if it was falsely – that for once in her life, someone other than her siblings cared about her.

Foolish, maybe, but then so was her reaction to the kiss. She'd run out of Devlin's house without any idea or inclination of where to go. By the time she was halfway across the city, Malik realized that her feet had unconsciously been taking her to Ryou and Bakura's house. Whenever she'd had a fight with Marik before, she'd gone there, seeing as how Ryou and Bakura were pretty much her only friends.

She furiously pushed aside the thoughts that **Duke** had become one of her friends. After all, friends didn't go around **kissing** other friends, now, did they?

Lovers, on the other hand…

Shaking her head, she shoved those thoughts into the little box in her head marked 'Here There Be Dragons,' which was where all her other thoughts about the dice duelist had been tucked. That way lay madness, and she already had enough insanity in her life with Marik. She'd prefer never to think about Duke in that context. Failing that, she'd put it off as long as possible.

Realizing where she was headed, she evaluated her situation and decided to continue to Ryou's house. After all, she'd promised Yugi she'd go to talk to them – and Ryou gave the best advice of anyone she knew – so she decided not to change course.

Her nervousness over how her friends would react had been buried under the turmoil Duke's kiss had caused. Her thoughts were running around like a hamster on a wheel, going over the same ideas over and over. So it wasn't until she was midway through the process of ringing Ryou's doorbell that she actually had time to think about his and Bakura's reactions to her changed state.

Lucky for her, or she might have run away.

When the door opened, revealing Ryou, Malik cringed. She had no idea what to say. She had no idea what to do. Hell, she had no idea what to **think**.

She **definitely** should have prepared for this.

Ryou blinked. "Malik?" he asked, voice dripping with disbelief.

Resisting the urge to cringe, Malik nodded. "Yeah, Ryou. It's me," she said tiredly.

"What happened?" Ryou asked, ushering her inside.

"Marik," Malik said succinctly, gratefully ducking inside the cozy coolness of the other hikari's house.

"Ah," Ryou said knowingly.

"Is Bakura here?" Malik asked nervously, twining one lock of platinum blonde hair around her finger. She stopped abruptly once she realized that she'd picked that habit up from watching Duke idly twirling his own raven locks.

Damn, she couldn't get the man off her mind no matter **what** she did.

But the real question was…did she want to?

Malik was simultaneously sure of the answer and afraid that it was, 'No.'

"She's at the library," Ryou reassured her. Giving Malik a measuring look, he asked, "Are you all right?"

Malik gave a brittle laugh. "No…I'm not." She tried to hold back her tears, but was unable to halt them. A few crystalline drops rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Damn hormones. That was the only explanation; an excess of estrogen rushing through her veins.

She refused to think that she was crying because of **Duke** **Devlin**.

"You want to talk about it?" Ryou offered compassionately.

Surreptitiously knuckling the tears from her eyes, Malik gave her friend a crooked smile. "That'd be good," she agreed.

* * *

And talk they did. For three hours. The first hour had been spent filling Ryou in on what had happened to her in the past three weeks: from Marik's rather explosive temper tantrum, to her storming out of the house and being rescued by Duke, to the kiss said dice duelist had given her not an hour before her arrival there.

The next hour was spent with Ryou playing Dear Abby.

It wasn't a very kind thought, but it still amazed Malik that a **girl** as butch as Bakura had ended up with a **guy** as feminine as Ryou.

Which worked out well for them; they balanced each other out in that respect, aside from being yami and hikari.

Not that Ryou was weak – who knew better than she that gender wasn't always an indicator of either physical or mental strength? – but where Bakura was aggressive, Ryou was passive.

Or, actually, now that she thought about it, Ryou was, in fact, passive-aggressive. He was willing to let Bakura take the lead most of the time, but not afraid to voice his opinions when it really mattered.

It was true what they said about opposites attracting, she guessed.

Malik refused to think about the fact that similar parallels could be drawn between her and Duke.

Mostly because she had a sinking feeling which side of the gender gap she'd fall on even if she were back in her true body. She knew she'd been on the edge of flaming before she'd been turned into a girl – pastel belly-baring shirts and tight leather pants aside, and okay, the gold jewelry and eyeliner could be excused as simply an Egyptian thing, but Ra, she spent more time on her hair than even **Duke** did! – and while she was nominally okay with that, that had been when she was **male**. This whole gender change thing had really done a number on her self-esteem.

What there was of it to begin with, anyway.

In any event, Ryou had definitely been the right person to talk to about her confusion, if only because he had gone through much the same thing with his own lover. Ryou could give her the benefit of his own experiences with Bakura to help Malik figure out what to do next. But Malik knew that if she really wanted good advice, she'd need to talk to her counterpart in this situation.

Malik had been compared to worse people than Bakura.

Speaking of said white-haired yami…

Bakura had arrived at the beginning of their third hour of conversation, and – after expressing her shock at Malik's situation and receiving an abbreviated explanation – she'd been there for the rest of it. Ryou had left when it became apparent that Bakura was the one Malik needed to talk to – without listeners.

Most people, when they thought of people who gave good advice, would not think of Bakura first. Or second. Or third.

Or even at all.

But Malik knew that she and Bakura were a lot alike in many ways. And if anyone could help her figure out her confusing feelings for Duke, it would be Bakura. Ryou had helped to clarify a few things **about** her situation…but Bakura could help her figure out what to **do**.

And how **she** felt about **Duke**.

Malik and Bakura were **both** notorious for not liking to analyze their feelings. Emotional bloodlettings were not their style. Physical ones, maybe, but…

It just goes to show that not all women like talking about their emotions, ne?

Any help Bakura could give her on that score would be…well…**extremely **helpful, if only because Bakura had gone through much the same thing when she first got together with Ryou. Ryou's information had been useful, but Bakura's point of view was what she really needed.

Of course, just because said advice was what she needed – and even **wanted** – didn't mean that she had to **like** it.

* * *

"You have **got** to be kidding!" Malik cried.

"No, I don't," Bakura said imperturbably.

"But…" Malik protested.

"You can't always choose who you fall in love with," Bakura interjected practically, though her tone was gentle. "And most people, if they could choose, wouldn't end up with the same person they have." She smirked, eyes darkening. "And they'd be that much worse off for it."

"Most people?" Malik repeated, having heard a slight emphasis on those two words. She sensed there was something more to the thief's words than was readily apparent.

Slanting a glance to the doorway through which Ryou had departed a few minutes ago, Bakura flushed slightly and remained silent.

"Ah," Malik said with new understanding. "You **chose** Ryou."

Bakura nodded, subdued.

"But you can't mean…" Malik objected, coming back to their original thread of conversation.

"Yes, I can," Bakura said firmly, unyielding as the door to a thousand-year-old tomb. "You love Duke Devlin."

_Impossible… _was Malik's knee-jerk reaction. But once she actually gave the theorem some thought, her feelings didn't seem so clear-cut._ Or, rather…_

_I've always been of the mind that **nothing **is impossible. Improbable, unlikely, but **never** impossible._

_Until now…_

_So let's just say that this is inexplicable, shall we?_ "Be that as it may, I didn't **choose** him," Malik argued.

A hint of a smile dancing in her eyes, Bakura agreed, "Not yet."

**

* * *

**

**One Week Later**

* * *

It had been pure insanity.

Well, maybe not **pure** insanity. More like insanity guided by rampant lust.

Duke winced as he replayed his actions of the week previous. After just telling Wheeler that he'd been a gentleman, not ten minutes passed before he practically **mauled** Malik.

Although…she didn't seem to mind that much. At least, to begin with.

Once the kiss ended, though…

Frowning in memory, Duke rubbed the only now-fading bruise on his shoulder. Once the kiss had ended, Malik had looked at him with an expression of complete and utter terror. She'd run off and, in her panicked retreat, she'd shoved him off of her, causing him to slam into the couch hard enough to leave a mark. She hadn't come back until that night, not speaking of where she'd been or of what had happened when she **did** come back.

Malik had been so skittish around him, he hadn't wanted to make her feel guilty, so he'd tried not to draw attention to his injury.

It had been a tense seven days since that Friday afternoon, Duke trying to make up for what was apparently either bad timing or just a bad move on his part, and Malik jumping like a scalded cat every time he came within ten feet of her.

Duke had tried more than once to apologize. Oh, not for kissing her, since he'd wanted to for three weeks – she was one of the most beautiful people he'd ever met, and he didn't just mean physically – but for…scaring her…as he had apparently done.

He hadn't thought anything could scare Malik. She'd lived with **Marik**, had been turned into a girl by said former dark spirit… If that hadn't really phased her, why should a simple kiss cause all this trouble?

Nonetheless, Malik was upset. And it was all his fault.

Duke had come to terms pretty quickly with the fact that he was attracted to Malik. Hair like spun gold, eyes that flashed like violet fire, a fashion sense that showed off a body that wouldn't quit, never mind what gender it was… Who wouldn't be attracted to Malik? But it was more than that; they fit together so well, had so much in common… Guy or girl, it didn't really matter, since it was the Egyptian's indomitable spirit that enflamed him.

And he was bisexual, so it wasn't like the future change in gender back to her normal male state would bother him all that much.

One of the things Malik had revealed in her short stay was that she was bisexual as well, leaning towards the gay end of the spectrum. Hell, the club they'd 'met' at was gay-friendly.

Duke found it ironic that Malik could probably get any guy she wanted now that she was a woman.

She could **definitely** get him. But did she **want** him? That was the question on his mind.

And inexplicably, for once in his life, Duke had no clue. He didn't know how Malik felt about him – obviously, because he'd thought she liked him, too, but if she did, then why did she run off? – and he didn't know what he was going to do about that.

He wished he did. On both counts. And he wished he knew what he could do to get her to trust him again.

* * *

Love.

The word resounded through her head, mocking her with its simplistic complexity.

How could **anyone** love her?

And why did Ryou seem to think Duke did, when all she had evidence of was lust on the dice duelist's part?

Sighing, Malik flopped back on her bed – well, on Duke's guest room bed – and thought back to the conversation she'd had with the other yami/hikari pair a week previous.

Ryou thought Duke felt something more than just transitory lust for her. He thought Duke would never have made a move on her in her quote-unquote 'vulnerable' state if it were just a physical thing. Malik had to agree that Duke was pretty much the gentleman he'd touted himself to be. He most likely wouldn't have approached her at all if it was just lust. That plus the fact that he'd waited until he knew her better seemed to give weight to Ryou's supposition.

Still… Love? After only three weeks?

But…even if Ryou **was** overestimating Duke's feelings…**Bakura** thought Malik felt much the same for Duke; that she actually possessed real **romantic** feelings for him.

While Malik would admit, if only to herself, that she'd had a thing for the dice duelist from the moment she first saw him… Love?

Malik groaned and buried her head underneath her – or, rather, Duke's – pillow. All this thinking was giving her a headache.

And the subject matter was giving her heartache, she thought gloomily.

Love? Maybe…

But what was she going to do about it?

* * *

Hours later, the sun had set on Domino City, and Malik was no closer to figuring out a solution to her problem than she had been when she started.

Of course, it might have helped if she could stop seeing Duke's feelings for her as a **problem**…

Nevertheless, night had fallen, and she was still as confused as ever on what to do.

Her stomach rumbled and she corrected her thoughts. She was confused about what to do about **Duke**. Luckily, she wasn't confused about what to do right at that exact moment in time.

She needed a snack.

Grumbling to herself, Malik stood up and exited her room, after first peeking outside to make sure Duke wasn't anywhere near. She saw that his bedroom door was closed, the light out, so she presumed he was asleep. Thinking fleetingly of going over to knock on the door before discarding the idea, Malik descended the stairs, keeping her bare feet cat-quiet so as not to wake her host.

Though the thought of purposely making a lot of noise just so he'd wake up had crossed her mind. Even if he yelled at her, at least they'd be **talking**. She missed hanging out with him, missed talking with him about anything and everything under the sun, missed hearing his voice…

Malik wasn't sure how she and Duke had managed to get through a whole week without exchanging more than forty-two words – and yes, she was so unhappy with their change in circumstances (and so far gone over Devlin) that she'd **counted** – but they had.

She didn't know what to do. She **wanted** to make up with Duke, but that would require explanations on her part. Explanations she wasn't sure she was capable of giving, letting alone **wanted** to.

Shafts of moonlight slanting through the windows gave her just enough illumination to see where she was going. The kitchen had no windows, however, so when she reached the periphery of it, she chanced to flip on the light switch, hoping the sudden brightness wouldn't alert Duke to her presence.

_Though, why should it?_ she asked herself. _He's upstairs, the kitchen's downstairs…no way he could see it._

_And even if he could, he's asleep; the little amount of light that he might get up there wouldn't be enough to wake him up. He sleeps like the dead._

Satisfied with the conclusions she'd come to, Malik got out the kettle and filled it with water in preparation for making herself a cup of tea. It could brew while she was fixing herself her snack.

Opening the refrigerator door, Malik peered inside its chilled depths, rummaging around to find something appetizing. Leftover lasagna – vegetarian, of course – assorted fruits and vegetables, a half-finished can of tuna fish – seafood being one of the few meats Duke indulged in – and the fried rice and lo mein left over from last night's Chinese takeout.

Grabbing the white boxes of Chinese food, Malik grabbed a fork and ladled the noodles and rice out onto a plate, setting it in the microwave to heat for a minute.

Five minutes later, she was sitting down to a sizzling plate of starches and vegetables, a steaming hot cup of tea, and more thinking.

Ruminating over her problems while she chewed, Malik still didn't know what to do by the time she had forked up the last bite of sautéed noodles and drained her second cup of oolong tea.

Sighing, she gathered up her dishes and rinsed them off, sticking them in the half-full dishwasher. Pouring herself another cup of tea, she leaned back against the kitchen wall and brooded.

What to do?

She had **no** clue. She could just wait until morning, come down to breakfast and start talking to Duke again, hoping he would let things go. But she knew that – even if Duke would be willing to go along with ignoring the events of this past week – that would only be a temporary solution, at best.

She groaned and pounded her head gently against the wall at her back. _Why me?_ she thought.

Heaving a sigh, she opened her eyes and froze.

Duke, wearing nothing but a pair of black track pants and a T-shirt, was standing in the kitchen doorway.

Looking at her with an expression of tentative hope.

For long moments, they just stood there, facing each other, a weighted pause encompassing the entire room, hanging heavy in the air like invisible smoke.

Finally, when the silence had started to grate on Malik's nerves, Duke spoke. "I'm sorry," he burst out.

"You're sorry?" Malik asked dumbly, brow furrowing slightly.

"For scaring you," Duke clarified, one arm coming up to rub the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to."

_Scaring me? Yeah, right… _Malik scoffed silently, her gut reaction being to deny any such weakness._ Even if it is slightly true. _A mulish expression crossing her face, Malik protested, "You didn't **scare** me, Devlin. **Nothing** scares me." But the anxious glint in her eyes gave away the lie in her words.

"For surprising you, then," Duke grumbled. "Whatever it was I did that made you run off."

"You **kissed** me, baka," Malik hissed. "Or is your headband on so tight it's cutting off the circulation to your brain and making you lose your short-term memory?"

Anger flashed in jade-green eyes. "Normally when I kiss people, they don't run away like the hounds of hell are at their heels," Duke groused.

Malik flinched and closed her eyes. _Hounds of hell indeed… Try shadows of old fears. Father, if you weren't already dead, I'd kill you._

_I must remember to thank Marik for doing it for me. I don't think I could have taken the stress at age eight._ "I don't…" Malik trailed off, obviously discarding what she had been about to say in favor of remaining silent.

"You don't what, Malik?" Duke asked, his demand at odds with his gentle tone. "You don't kiss people? You don't kiss **guys**?" A teasing smile came over his face at the last question. "You don't want to admit you ran like a scared bunny rabbit?"

**_Bunny rabbit_**_?! How dare he?_

_And I wasn't scared, _she thought, pouting mentally.

Her face fell. _More like completely, utterly terrified. _

Malik glared at him heatedly. "Many phrases have been used to describe me, Devlin. 'Scared bunny rabbit' is not one of them."

Duke just cocked a raven brow.

Malik sighed and, leaning back against the wall, fiddled with her teacup. Heart in her mouth, she thought, _Here goes nothing…_ "I don't trust…people…easily," she said at length. "And you…startled me. No one's ever…" She cut herself off, turning away from Duke's penetrating gaze.

"No one's ever what?" Duke prompted gently. "Kissed you?"

_No one except Isis or Rishid,_ Malik thought gloomily. _But he doesn't need to know that._

_However, he **does** need to know the truth. He **deserves** to know the truth,_ she thought, sighing inwardly. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and set her cup down, wanting her hands free for the inevitable confrontation.

Just in case.

"No one's ever **wanted** me," she said in a rush. "Not like that. Not like…more than just a one-night stand." She bit her lip, abashed at her own audacity. _I've had plenty of women **and** men give me the once-over before…but it was never anything more than just momentary lust._

_I **want** something more… _she thought yearningly.

_With Duke,_ came the unbidden, inexplicable final words of that thought.

"I do," Duke said softly, sincerely.

"You do?" Malik asked hesitantly. _Does he really? Want **me**? Childish psycho yami, scars – both mental and physical – emotional baggage and all?_

"You're everything I've ever wanted," Duke mumbled, flushing slightly at the admission. Tentatively reaching out with one hand to clasp hers, a flicker of relief went through his eyes as Malik accepted it.

"Are you sure?" Malik had to ask. This all seemed too good to be true. Only the fact that this past week had actually happened – however confusing, heart-rending and anxiety-inducing it had been, it was **real**, and she never would have dreamed up anything as bad – gave her courage to think it wasn't all a lie.

That Duke's words weren't lies.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life," Duke said, every word filled with honest sincerity.

Eyes suspiciously bright – damn those hormones, she hadn't cried like this since her Tomb-keeper's Initiation – Malik said, voice ragged, "All right. I…I trust you, Duke."

Duke's smile dawned like a sunrise over his face, brightening up the whole room. It wasn't the declaration of great emotion that he'd had been going for…but it was **real**. And that was worth more than any amount of romantic prose. "Thank you," he said softly, pulling her into him by their still-clasped hands.

He leaned down until their lips were only a breath apart, eyes half-lidded as he waited for her to close the gap.

_Here goes nothing…and everything. _Taking a deep breath, Malik did so.


	3. Beach Bumming

**Beach Bumming**

* * *

**In Which There Is Sun, Sand, Surf, Sexy Swimsuits – And Secrets Revealed**

* * *

**Japanese**

Ano – Um…  
Baka – Idiot/Stupid  
Ecchi – (Playfully) Pervert/Perverted  
Kirei – Beautiful  
Sabaku no Bijin – Desert Beauty  
Nani? – What?  
Suki da yo – Literally, this means, 'I like you best.' In most circles, however, it's come to mean something closer to, 'I love you.'

* * *

**Egyptian**

Amen Ma'at – Hidden Truth/Hiding The Truth  
Kher Ma'at – Right Truth/Righting The Truth

* * *

**Ding-Dong!**

Hearing the doorbell sound, Malik looked up from her motorcycle magazine. Her nose wrinkled and she groaned slightly. She didn't want to have to answer the door – especially since it was, most likely, either someone here to see Duke, or one of Yugi's friends who for some reason wanted to see (read: pester) her – but Duke was at the shop doing inventory, so she was the only one 'home.'

The fact that she wished he were here – less for him to answer the door and more because she just wanted him here with her – was starting to seem less and less weird as the days went by.

It had been two weeks since she had last seen the four friends, and those ensuing weeks had brought many pleasant changes – all involving said aforementioned dice duelist – to her life. Along with one majorly unwanted change.

She'd gotten her period.

What a harrowingly **horrific** adventure that was. She'd actually broken down, swallowed her irritation at her sister, and called Isis for advice. And she was just now starting to feel like her old – well, **new** old – self again, and not a complete stranger in her own body.

She did **not** want to have to deal with the 'brat pack' as Bakura dubbed them.

_Well, maybe it's Bakura, or Ryou,_ she thought. It would be good to see either – or both – of them.

_Or…it might be Marik,_ a hopeful little voice whispered in the back of her mind.

_Nah, _she dismissed with a frown, tossing her magazine onto the bed._ Even if he knew I was here, he wouldn't come looking for me just to change me back._

Reluctantly getting up, she made her way to the door, swearing that if it was either Wheeler or Taylor there to stare at her breasts that no matter what she'd promised Duke, she'd be getting in a little knife-throwing practice.

Bakura had given her some ideas concerning what she'd threatened Marik with the first time they'd shown up.

Stifling her chuckles at the memory, she undid the four locks – she supposed you could call Duke paranoid, but then, one was only considered paranoid if they **weren't** out to get you, and this was Domino City, after all – and opened the door.

To find Mai Valentine standing on her doorstep, a sulking Bakura in tow.

Bakura? Sulking?

All of a sudden, Malik was scared.

* * *

"The beach?" Malik asked, confused. She, Mai and Bakura were sitting in Duke's living room, Mai in the easy chair, her and Bakura on the couch.

She'd never given Mai much thought. But the fact that she was here to invite her to a get-together at the beach with Yugi and his friends…

Well, she normally would have considered Mai a dumb blonde for making the offer, but the fact that she'd convinced Bakura to go along with this spoke volumes for her persuasiveness.

Malik had a bad feeling she was going to end up on a sandy stretch of shore come Saturday. Whether she wanted to or not.

She actually liked the beach – but that was when she was **male**. She couldn't very well go to the beach in her normal swimwear of swim trunks and a T-shirt, now could she?

"This Saturday," Mai confirmed. "Everybody's invited – and that means you, too, Malik-chan."

Shooting the other blonde woman a glare at the nickname, Malik said, "What if I don't want to go?" For all that she liked swimming – **really** liked swimming – she really **didn't** want to attend this beach gathering. Because somehow she knew that if she went, she wouldn't be allowed to just stay on dry land and soak up the sun. Somehow, some way, she'd end up shirtless.

And she never went shirtless. With good – well, **bad** – reason.

And considering how her usual beachwear would look on her female body…well, there were no topless beaches outside of Nagasaki. Not that she thought most men would object…

Mai smiled smugly as she offered innocently, " Duke's going. And I hear from Téa that he looks **really** fine in his swim trunks." Her eyes twinkled with suppressed mischief as she watched Malik blush.

Malik was saved from her embarrassment when Bakura threw in, "And besides, **I'm** going." She rolled her eyes. "How Ryou convinced me, I will **never** know. But if you don't come, I'll have no one but him to talk to all afternoon."

"Like that's a problem for you," Malik shot back.

Bakura just stared at her, hard.

After a few minutes squirming under the white-haired yami's impenetrable gaze, Malik gave in. "Fine," she said less than graciously. "But I don't have anything to wear!" she protested moments later.

It wasn't an empty complaint, either, for all that it was unspeakably and stereotypically girlish. Hours after Marik had changed her, she'd tried on most of her old guy clothes trying to find something that would fit her. Now that she was female only the looser stuff still fit – which ruled out eighty-five percent of what she owned. As a guy, she was as whipcord thin as Bakura – more so, even. Leanly muscled and straight as a ruler. As a girl, she had more curves than the Great Wall of China. She knew they made her look good – as a girl, anyway – but she wasn't about to put them on display. Even if she thought she could get away with wearing her old swim trunks and a T-shirt to the beach – and even **she** wasn't brazen enough to wear a wet T-shirt in front of all those horny boys – the shorts wouldn't fit over her new wider hips.

Mai grinned a Cheshire Cat grin. "Oh, we can take care of that…"

And the fear that Malik had experienced upon the two females' arrival suddenly came rushing back tenfold.

* * *

The Mall.

Malik was at the Mall.

Domino City Plaza, to be exact.

_A Mall by any other name is still excruciatingly, unspeakably horrid,_ Malik thought in dread as she followed along in Mai's wake, Bakura on her heels. The other blonde was determined to outfit her in appropriate garb for the upcoming beach party, and before Malik knew it, they'd been in Mai's car, on their way here.

Malik, Mai, **and** Bakura. For, after hearing that Bakura also had no swimwear, suitable or otherwise, Mai had decided to take them **both** shopping.

Malik had a **bad** feeling about this. What were the odds that Mai 'Less is More' Valentine would let her buy one of those shorts and tanktop swimsuits that were so popular at the moment?

About the same odds as Bakura wanting to get something in cotton candy pink and lime green. With purple polka-dots.

Sigh. She might have actually been able to cover up her back with one of those…

Visions of skimpy string bikinis dancing in her head like a parade of rainbow-colored scary sugarplums, Malik warily followed Mai into Hot Topic. A sea of neon-colored beachwear assaulted her eyes, loud techno music her ears, cool air her skin…

…and trepidation her mind.

"We're doomed," Bakura uttered fatalistically, panicked eyes roaming avidly over the store as she looked fervently around for exits.

"You said it, sister," Malik quipped.

* * *

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Malik grumbled as Mai rifled through the racks of swimsuits.

"You bet," Mai agreed, narrowing her eyes at a navy blue two-piece. "Here, go try this one on," she said, handing it to Bakura.

Bakura grumbled a bit at the thinly-veiled command, but moments later found herself on her way to the changing rooms. The yami knew she had no idea what to buy, but that still didn't mean she had to like someone else choosing her clothes for her.

Watching Mai go back to her former actions, Malik frowned. "Why?" she asked. "I mean, most people would consider shopping with Bakura and me inhumane torture, not something to be enjoyed."

Mai paused in her browsing and turned to the other blonde. "Shopping is more fun with company," she said at length. "Téa doesn't like shopping all that much and Serenity's a little too young." She shrugged and smirked. "Besides, neither of you two have any clue about female fashion, and if I didn't take you in hand, you wouldn't have shown up on Saturday."

Malik made a face at the accuracy of the remark and was saved from having to comment by Bakura's return. The white-haired thief actually looked pretty good in the suit – if you overlooked the fact that the top was slightly baggy in front. Most bathing suits for women her age didn't take into account the fact that it wasn't just pre-teen girls who had very small bust sizes.

Bakura glared heatedly at the two blondes. "No way," she said succinctly.

Mai sighed. "Okay, back to the drawing board…"

* * *

**One Hour Later**

* * *

"I am **not** trying that on," Malik stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest and staring with undisguised horror at the black bikini hanging oh-so-innocently from the hanger in Mai's hand.

"You've said that about **all** of them," Mai said exasperatedly. "Even Bakura tried on the last three and she's not the most sartorial of dressers."

Malik just huffed and looked away. _You wouldn't understand, Valentine. If you ever had any scars you probably had them surgically removed. Mine run too deep to be fixed – and no, I don't mean that metaphorically._

**_Just_**_ metaphorically, anyway._

Sensing that there was more to Malik's refusal than met the eye – and she saw far more than people gave her credit for, which was why she hadn't encouraged Joey's pursuance of her with even **mild** flirting – Mai asked, "Malik? What's the **real** problem you have with people seeing your body?"

Malik flushed slightly and squirmed uncomfortably. _No way am I telling her if she hasn't found out by now._

Bakura, who had finally been talked into a slim black tank suit less than an hour after they'd entered the store, had been leaning back against the changing room wall, watching the proceedings. Striding over to Malik, she grabbed the Egyptian's arm. "Mai, let me handle this." Receiving a nod from the blonde, she proceeded to haul her friend into one of the empty changing rooms.

"I don't want to tell her," Malik said as soon as the door was closed.

"You don't have to," Bakura assured her. "But you and I both know why you don't want to do this."

Malik nodded tiredly. Neither she nor Bakura were much for talking about their pasts, but in their little group consisting of themselves and their other halves, sometimes certain things were discussed.

"And I can help you."

One platinum eyebrow creeping up into her hairline, Malik asked, "How?"

Shrugging diffidently, Bakura said evasively, "You aren't the only one who has problems with people seeing your scars."

Confused, Malik just looked at her friend. She had thought Bakura considered the marks on her cheek as battle scars, and was justifiably proud of them.

Of course, she **had** wondered how anyone had gotten near enough to Bakura to wound her with such a grievously close-to-mortal blow…

A few inches higher and Bakura would have been dead. No question about it; ancient Egyptian medicine would not have been able to save her. Medicine had advanced a **lot** in the ensuing three thousand years since the thief was last alive. In today's modern world, her eye might not have been saved, but her life would have been.

But back to the matter at hand…

"I found a spell in one of your family's books," Bakura finally said, growing uncomfortable with the silence. "It's a concealment charm, meant to hide small things from the mind's eye."

Malik stilled. If she could use magic to cover up her scars…

Duke would never have to know. Never have to **see**. And she'd never have to explain…

She mentally shook herself. _Baka. I could never do that to him; hide myself. If he can't accept me – all of me – then he's not worth it._

_That doesn't mean it'll hurt any less if he rejects me, though,_ she thought sullenly.

"Have you tested it to make sure it works?"

In answer, Bakura waved one hand in front of her right cheek, fingers forming an intricate gesture as she murmured, "Amen Ma'at." The three crisscrossed lines disappeared, light pink color bleeding away, leaving her face seemingly unblemished.

Malik gasped. "How…" She broke off, wetting her lips. "Show me how?" she implored.

Bakura's lips twitched in a semblance of a smile at the other's eagerness. "Sure."

* * *

Once Malik mastered the new spell, Mai's project of getting her to try on bathing suits went **much** smoother.

Well…not all **that** much smoother, but at least Malik was now willing to try things on. Even if it did take a whole **lot** of convincing on the other two girls' parts.

As soon as Malik and Bakura had exited the changing room, Mai thrust a one-piece white suit at Malik. "Here, try this one on," she said.

Malik sighed and wrinkled her nose as she stared at the garment. "I don't think white is really my color, Mai," she tried to discourage the other blonde.

Folding her arms across her chest Mai gave the other girl a look, tapping one high-heeled shoe impatiently against the carpeted floor. "I need a baseline," she replied evenly, not to be dissuaded. "White is pretty much basic. I see how you look in this, and then we go from there."

Malik grumbled, but gave in, snatching the suit out of Mai's hand as she retreated to the changing rooms. Now that her worries about people seeing her back were alleviated, the other reason she hadn't wanted to try on clothes was brought to the forefront.

She was extremely leery of getting…reacquainted…with 'her' new body. For the first couple of days after she'd been changed, Malik had even avoided showering, since that would entail getting up close and personal with her new 'parts.' Going to the bathroom had been a **real** adventure.

And not a fun one.

The changing room door clicked closed behind her, the sound almost ominous in the quiet of the mostly deserted store. Malik made sure to the turn the lock before hanging the bathing suit on the hook provided. She just stared at it a moment before finally picking it back up. _No use stalling, I suppose…_

Holding the simple white tank suit to her chest, Malik made a face. It was too short – the bottom came only to her navel.

_Though, I suppose since it's spandex, it'll stretch,_ Malik thought hopefully, before her thoughts took a downward turn. _Of course, that means it will be completely form-fitting…_

Malik's imagination oh-so-helpfully supplied her with a picture of what she'd look like once she put the bathing suit on. It would be as if she was wearing nothing more than underwear.

**Women's** underwear.

Malik brooded on that thought for a while, stewing in her irritation. A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie.

"Malik, are you okay in there?" came Bakura's husky contralto.

"Yeah, sorry, just got lost in thought," Malik replied. "Give me a minute; I'll be right out."

"All right."

Sighing, Malik surrendered to the inevitable and started stripping.

* * *

An hour later, after three more tank suits, five bikinis, and one aborted attempt by Mai to get Malik to wear a thong, Mai had finally decided on a bathing suit.

Unfortunately, she hadn't consulted Malik before making her decision.

"I feel naked," Malik complained, crossing her arms over her chest and trying vainly to ignore the fact that – for the sixth time that afternoon – she was only wearing a bikini.

A very skimpy, tight, hugging-every-one-of-her-new-female-curves lavender bikini. Thankfully, it wasn't a thong – was Mai out of her mind with that suggestion? – though, even if it was rather modest compared to some of the other items in the store, she still felt entirely too exposed.

Of course, that could have just been the air vent over her head. Exuding chilled air, it gave her goosebumps over her entire body and a reason besides modesty to cover her chest. What little warmth her crossed arms gave her was imminently preferable to freezing.

"You **look** naked," Mai quipped. She grinned saucily. "Almost, anyway. Which was the effect we were going for."

"We were?" Malik asked hesitantly, adjusting one of the shoulder straps so it didn't bite into her neck. _What 'we,' blondie? _"And what effect was that?"

"Yes," Mai confirmed. "The effect of Duke's jaw dropping when he sees you in that."

Malik stilled in her fidgeting and thought about that for a moment. She was bisexual, after all, for all that she liked guys better. If she saw a girl wearing what **she** was currently wearing…

Well, she was too controlled to drool, but her eyes would definitely rival an anime character's for bugging out of her head.

Malik sighed. "All right," she said grudgingly. "I'll wear it."

She was **so** weak.

* * *

**Saturday**

* * *

The sun overhead beat down warmly on her back, the sounds of children playing and waves crashing against the shore a soft, pleasantly distracting susurration in her ears.

And the annoyance that was Joey Wheeler was nowhere near her.

Which, aside from the beautiful day and how content she felt, was what made her so happy.

Completely disregarding the fact that Duke was sitting right next to her, playing with her hair, of course…

And yes, his jaw had dropped when he first saw her in her new bathing suit. The gobsmacked, yet awed look on his face was completely worth having to wear the Ra-damned thing.

Joey and Tristan's reactions, however, she could have done without. At least the Pharaoh had managed to hide his reaction to just a widening of his crimson-colored eyes; the mutt and Taylor had had a hard time keeping their hands to themselves.

She **really** didn't know how Bakura had managed to keep herself from killing them.

The soft 'Whump!' of someone dropping down next to her on the beach roused Malik from her musings. Lazily, she cracked open an eye to see who it was, only to find the final object of her thoughts sitting on the sand to her left.

"Bakura," Malik greeted her friend, not bothering to detach herself from Duke's caressing hand. Bakura was her closest friend, aside from Ryou, and if Malik couldn't be 'cuddly' with her boyfriend in front of Bakura, who could she be 'cuddly' in front of?

"Malik," Bakura returned. "Sunbathing?" she asked idly.

Malik nodded as well as she could with her head resting on her folded arms. "Mm-hm," she mumbled. "What about you?"

Shaking her head, Bakura said, "I'm trying to figure out what the appeal is." She wrinkled her nose, one hand coming up to push her hair out of her eyes, the other tugging the zipper at her neck down to the start of her cleavage. Both actions served to allow more sun to warm her skin.

And to show **off **more of her skin, which Duke manfully kept himself from staring at. Forcing his eyes downward, he focused on the cocoa-colored expanse of skin that was his 'girlfriend's' back. **Much** nicer to look at than Bakura's barely-there cleavage.

In his mind, anyway. Ryou most likely felt differently.

Which was as it should be.

"Swimming?" Duke guessed, having noticed that aside from Malik, Bakura was the only one who had yet to go into the water. Not that he minded spending time with his girlfriend on the shore. Malik was a desert beauty, and seemed born from the sand, her skin glistening in the sunlight.

"Yeah. It wasn't something you did in Egypt. Not really," Bakura said.

"Swimming for fun, anyway," Malik corrected, turning over onto her back and sitting up. Mouth opening in a kitten-like yawn, she stretched her arms above her head, a flash of amusement-laced pleasure running through her brain when she noticed Duke's appreciative stare. "Most people bathed in the Nile, but it wasn't considered recreation. Pity, that."

"If you like swimming so much, then why aren't you out there?" Bakura asked, gesturing towards the expanse of blue-green water in front of them.

"I like sunbathing better," Malik dismissed, though she stared longingly out at the ocean.

"And?" Duke asked, knowing there was more to it than that. He may not have known Malik as well as Bakura did, but living with someone – even for only five weeks – you still got to know them pretty well pretty fast.

Especially when you were attracted to them and were actively **trying** to learn everything you could about them.

Malik made a face and gave in. "And knowing my luck, this bathing suit will become transparent when it's wet. I've had enough of the mutt and his friend drooling over me and I'd prefer not to invite speculation." The corners of her lips lifted slightly as she noticed Duke seemed interested in the idea of her looking like an entrant in a wet swimsuit contest.

"Indeed," Bakura agreed mock-soberly. She rolled her eyes. "Why do you think I kept my shorts on?"

"For all the good they do you," Malik said, rolling her own violet orbs. Bakura was wearing a pair of low-riding cut-off shorts that were almost indecently short. It was pretty much a lost cause of her wearing them, since they covered little more skin than her black tank suit did.

"Ryou likes them," Bakura mumbled as an excuse, though a flush did rise in her cheeks at the scrutiny.

"Speaking of…" Duke drawled, looking off into the distance. "Here he comes now."

"Bakura!" Ryou called, loping across the sand towards the trio. Skidding to a halt next to Malik's multi-colored beach towel, he dropped down next to his girlfriend, panting slightly, his cheeks flushed with exertion and sun exposure. "We're having a sand castle building contest. Come join us, you guys," he invited.

"A sand castle building contest?" Duke asked archly.

Ryou shrugged. "You know Yami and competition," he said, as if that explained everything.

And it pretty much did. Yami hadn't been known as the King of Games for nothing.

"Are you really going to build castles?" Malik asked, flopping back down onto her stomach, face towards the shore where the rest of their group was gathered. "I would think with this crowd you'd make pyramids. Or maybe the Sphinx."

"That was actually what I was thinking of building – the Sphinx," Ryou replied. "Yami's been remembering more of his past and he and Yugi are going to try to build the royal palace." He rolled his eyes, gaze taking in Malik's back. Freezing on the expanse of bare skin, he did a double-take at what he saw – or, rather, **didn't** see.

Malik tensed as she noticed where Ryou's gaze was focused. _Please, **please** don't ask right now. Don't bring this up in front of Duke,_ she silently begged. So far the other boys had been so busy staring at her 'assets' that they hadn't commented on – and might not have even noticed – her lack of body art. She didn't want Ryou to be the first.

And it seemed that Ryou heard her, for instead of voicing the question that was apparent on his face, he just flicked a glance Bakura's way. While both of them had left their Rings back with the picnic gear rather than deal with the metal objects on what had tuned out to be a scorching day, they could still communicate mentally through their bond. Which they were obviously doing now, Bakura answering Ryou's question.

The question was answered quickly; Duke never even realized there was another matter afoot.

"The Sphinx, huh?" Bakura voiced aloud.

Ryou nodded eagerly.

Bakura sighed. "All right," she said lacklusterly. "But first, you need to put on some more sunscreen. Your shoulders are turning pink."

"I think we left it over by the picnic basket," Ryou said, scanning the beach for the aforementioned item. Slanting his girlfriend a rakish glance, he asked, "Help me put it on?"

Bakura smirked. "Sure."

After the two atypical lovebirds had departed, Duke turned to Malik, a glint in his eye. "I don't suppose you need me to help you reapply **your** sunscreen?"

A slow smile spread across her face. "Well, we have been here a while…" she drawled, one slim hand coming up to tap against her lips in a mock show of thoughtfulness. "I suppose it wouldn't **hurt**…"

* * *

"So what type of Sphinx do you want to build?" Bakura asked after Ryou's sunscreen had been reapplied. The process had been interrupted by various moans on the hikari's part caused by tickling and kisses on the yami's part, so the other yami/hikari pair had already started on their sand 'palace'.

"There's more than one type?" Ryou asked as they settled themselves with their sand statue building tools a bit down the beach from the others.

Bakura chuckled, using a yellow plastic bucket to pile wet sand in a large, vaguely rectangular lump. "There were three types of Sphinxes, hikari. Only one was ever made into a tomb, and thus became famous, but there were three."

"Tell me about them?" Ryou implored. He always liked to hear Bakura talk about Egypt. She seldom did, and he understood it was hard for to think back to those times because most of them weren't nice memories.

But some of them were nice, he knew, and those were the ones he wanted her to dwell one.

"Well…" Bakura mused thoughtfully as she helped him shape the sand so that one end was higher than the other. "The one in Giza is the Androsphinx, which has the head of a man."

"Go on," Ryou said, when it seemed that Bakura would just leave it at that.

"The Criosphinx has the head of a ram," Bakura told him. "And the Heiracosphinx had the head of a hawk."

Ryou frowned. "But wouldn't that make the Heiracosphinx more like a griffin?"

Bakura cocked her head to the side, patting two handfuls of sand into rudimentary paws. "A griffin? I don't believe I know of that creature."

"A griffin was half-lion, half-eagle," Ryou told her, happy that for once he was the one imparting knowledge. "Like the Sphinx, only with an eagle's head instead of a human one. I always thought that the griffin might have been based on the Sphinx – the manticore, too – since some tales of the Sphinx said it had wings, too."

"The one in Giza doesn't," Bakura said needlessly. "And good thing, too, since I have no idea how we'd manage to make those out of sand." She gestured at the vaguely Sphinx-shaped lump in between them.

"True," Ryou said.

"And what about this 'Manticore'?" Bakura asked as they worked.

"Well, the manticore is like the Androsphinx, only it has the tail of a scorpion," Ryou replied.

Bakura frowned. "I wonder if the manticore was invented in Egypt after I died," she said thoughtfully. "Scorpions are very prevalent in the desert, after all."

Purposely ignoring the shiver that went down his spine whenever Bakura talked about her death, Ryou said, "It's entirely possible."

Picking up on her hikari's emotions, Bakura reached out one hand to squeeze Ryou's shoulder. He gave her a small smile in gratitude and they went back to building their sand Sphinx.

* * *

Across the beach, Malik and Duke were involved in their own tickle-and-kiss tease-and-torture session. Duke had finally stopped tickling her when Malik found it hard to breathe, and was now rubbing sunscreen into his 'girlfriend's' shoulders. "Malik?" he asked.

"Yeah?" Malik replied, trying vainly not to tense up as she felt his hands move further down her back.

"It's probably none of my business," he started, tone saying that he actually thought it **was** his business but was too polite to insist. "But…why do you tense up whenever someone touches your back?" He stroked a swath of sunscreen-damp warmth up and down her spine in demonstration.

Malik went rigid in Duke's arms. _He noticed? **How**?_ "I…ano…" she stuttered, completely freaked out.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Duke rushed on, one hand turning her to face him. "We really haven't known each other all that well for very long, but…" He paused, obviously searching for a way to phrase his next words delicately. "I know there are things in everyone's past they'd rather not think about or talk of."

Calming slightly at his reassuring words, Malik sighed, nibbling on her lower lip. _We do need to talk about this,_ she admitted to herself reluctantly. That thought engendered a wave of unease in the pit of her stomach. _He needs to know…he **deserves** to know. I just wish it didn't have to be now. I was enjoying this day at the beach. _Resigned to her fate, she said haltingly, "I don't…want you to have to know…"

"But?" Duke coaxed, sensing there was something more to Malik's situation than simple reluctance to talk about it. His hand left her shoulder and reached down to squeeze her palm reassuringly.

"But I want…no, I **need**…to tell you," Malik said softly.

Duke's free hand came up to card soothingly through her tangled white-blonde tresses. "You don't have to," he repeated his earlier words. "I'm perfectly content to remain blissfully ignorant." One side of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

Malik snorted softly. She lowered her gaze, focusing on hers and Duke's joined hands. Her slim, momentarily feminine, mocha-colored hand clasped inside Duke's pale olive masculine one.

Would it be too girly of her to find comfort in that strong grip?

_Aw, screw it. It's not like a bisexual guy – or girl, for the moment – needs to worry about **her** masculinity._

"It's not that I don't want to talk about it," Malik said at length.

Duke raised one raven brow in a show of silent skepticism.

She gave a wry grin and corrected herself. "All right, it's not **just** that I don't want to talk about it. But…" She trailed off, finding herself unable to continue. Why was it so hard to get these words out?

"But?" Duke prompted gently.

She swallowed, tears pricking at her eyes. _But I think I **need** to…with you._ "But I never **have** talked about it."

Duke's brow furrowed slightly. "Ryou and Bakura know." It was a statement, not a question, and Malik noticed that there wasn't even a hint of jealousy or censure in Duke's voice, for which she was extremely thankful.

Inclining her head in a nod, Malik said softly, "I didn't tell them. Any of them."

"Then who did?" Duke asked, voice hushed. He knew whatever this secret was, it couldn't have been known by anybody outside of Malik's family…before the others found out, anyway.

Malik sighed and looked away. "It…involves Marik." She frowned. "Sort of, anyway. Isis told the others during Battle City."

Duke digested that, then asked, "Would you rather I asked her?"

Malik was shaking her ahead almost before she even thought about her answer. "No, I…I need to tell you myself."

Duke nodded. "All right."

"But…" Malik fidgeted and once again examined their clasped hands, before turning her gaze towards him. "Later? Right now, I just want to enjoy this day." _And you,_ she added silently, though by the expression on his face, Duke seemed to have heard her thoughts.

"Even with the emotional clouds hanging overhead?" Duke joked, pulling her near by their joined limbs, linking his arms behind her back once she was close enough to do so.

"Every cloud has a silver lining," Malik said facetiously, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Even 'gender change by way of Millennium Item-wielding yami' clouds." She gave a wry roll of her eyes.

"Well, red has always been more my color than anything metallic, but…" Duke chuckled and pressed his lips to Malik's in a soft, yet intense kiss, swallowing her combined giggle/moan.

* * *

**Sunset – The Black Crown**

* * *

It wasn't nearly midnight, and there was no pumpkin or fairy godmother involved, but somehow Malik still felt like Cinderella, having stayed too long after the ball. Her time as the princess was almost up – and not because Marik had come back and changed her back into a guy. Because the magic of the day was rapidly dwindling now that she and Duke were home – and when did Duke's apartment become home, anyway? – and she knew she'd have to tell her handsome almost-prince about her evil father.

Too bad Anubis Ishtar wasn't her **step**father. She really didn't want to claim a biological link with him.

But back to the problem at hand…

Malik and Duke were ensconced on the loveseat in Duke's small library/study. Neither of them was speaking, and the silence was deafening – but not frustrating. At least, not Duke's part of it. He seemed perfectly patient, willing to wait for all eternity for her to speak.

Before even an eon had passed, however, she'd have exploded from the anxiety-inducing anticipation.

Seconds ticked down like sand through an hourglass, and she was soon running out of time until she'd have to tell Duke about her scars.

She'd rather go shopping with Mai any day.

"It happened when I was ten," she said abruptly, eyes focused on the fire that Duke had built to ward off the evening chill. It was almost cozy – Japan was not nearly warm enough for her, even in the summer. She much preferred Egypt's weather. The days were more temperate, though the nights weren't nearly as balmy. "It was my duty as the firstborn son…" Her voice died out as her throat constricted, impeding her ability to continue.

"What was?" Duke asked, voice hushed.

She swallowed, clearing out the mass of memories that blocked her voice. "To undergo the Tomb-keeper's Initiation."

"And what exactly did that entail?" Duke's voice was calm, cool, collected…and practically vibrating with worry.

It was actually kind of nice, she thought.

"I had to…get the Pharaoh's memories tattooed on my back," Malik finally said. "Whether I wanted them or not."

"I'm sensing there's more to this than simply an unwanted tattoo," Duke said slowly, voice guarded.

Eyes glazing over with the memories, Malik said, "You know me and my family lived in an underground compound, right?"

Duke nodded slowly.

"We'd lived there since Yami closed the Shadow Realm, almost never venturing into the upper world," Malik revealed. "Consequently, things stayed pretty much the same – including our knowledge."

Dread was starting to fist in his gut, but still Duke made himself ask, "Knowledge?"

Malik nodded and, despite the warmth the fire brought, shivered with the phantom pains. "They're not technically tattoos by today's standards. You use ink and needles for modern tattoos."

Duke nodded.

Licking her suddenly dry lips, Malik swallowed and forced herself to continue. "But in ancient Egypt, tattoos were made differently. Today it would be known as ritual scarring, I suppose. You carved them with a knife." She let out a silent sob, her voice breaking as she choked out, "And there were no painkillers."

Duke's indrawn breath of astonishment was loud in the suddenly silent room. "Malik…" he said, compassion etched in each syllable. Unsure what step to take, he focused on the impetus for this conversation. "And this…tattoo…is on your back?"

She nodded jerkily.

Duke frowned. "But today…at the beach…"

"It's a spell Bakura showed me," Malik murmured.

He nodded in comprehension.

Quiet reigned for a few moments, before the silence once again became too much for Malik to bear. "Do you want to see it?" she asked, gulping back her tears, and with them her fear. _Stupid hormones. That's the only reason I'm crying. I haven't cried since the markings were first carved. And I wouldn't be crying now if it weren't for the fact I'm female._

_And right at this moment, I'm more scared than I've ever been in my entire life._

"Do you want to show me?" Duke returned.

She didn't **want** to, no. But she **needed** to. And rather than answer him – because she wasn't sure she could say anything, force any words past the lump of memories in her throat – she decided to just show him.

After they'd arrived back at Duke's apartment, she'd taken a few minutes to change out of her beach clothes. She'd donned the shirt she was wearing now specifically in preparation for this moment. It was one of the few shirts she owned that zipped up the front. Actually, it was the only one she had with her.

She was certainly too nervous to deal with undoing buttons.

Rising from the couch, she turned her back to him. Flipping her hair over her shoulder to hang in her face, she murmured the nullifying incantation under her breath, feeling the tingle of magic along her spine as the markings became visible once more. Taking a deep breath, she carefully pulled the zipper down, the sound of the metal teeth parting loud in the quiet hush of the room. Saying one last prayer to a god she wasn't even sure she believed in, Malik reached up with both hands to part her shirt and shrug it off.

For the first time, someone other than herself or her siblings was seeing her back.

It didn't scare her as much as she would have thought. What scared her more was what Duke might think. She was suddenly glad the markings were on her back – this way she didn't have to look into his eyes when he saw them.

The soft tread of Duke's socked feet padding across the floor reached her ears and she forced herself not to bolt as he came closer. Blinking back tears, she fisted her shirt into a ball, hugging it to her naked chest. She'd never felt so exposed in her life – in more ways than one.

He came to a stop only inches from her. His warm breath caressed her, causing the strands of her hair to rustle against her neck. She tensed as she felt the currents of air shift when he reached out with one hand.

_Is he going to touch them?_ She wasn't sure how'd she'd feel about that. On the one hand, she hated her tattoos. It was a constant reminder of a past she'd almost just as soon forget. On the other hand…it was her back. She shouldn't really have a problem with him touching her…

And she didn't, really. It was just… She didn't know what he was thinking.

And that scared her.

So she breathed a silent sigh of relief when Duke's hand came to rest gently on her left shoulder and turned her to face him. She could feel his gaze focused on her, then his other hand came up to tilt her chin so he could look into her eyes. "Malik…" he said, at a loss. He obviously didn't know what to say. "I…" he stopped, his voice tapering off, and then strengthened again. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, Malik."

Malik snorted. "No more than I," she said, chuckling slightly.

His lips quirked up slightly. "True."

And she could keep the words back no longer, though she was unable to look him in the eye as she asked. "Does it…does it change things?" she asked in a rush. "Now that you know?"

Duke was silent for a moment as he contemplated her question, giving it due consideration. She was glad to see that he wasn't going to just shrug off her concerns with a pat answer.

Though waiting for his answer was still nerve-wracking.

"I'm not going to say it doesn't matter to me," Duke said slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Of course it matters to me…"

Malik swallowed, tears brimming in her eyes once more. _Please, Ra, no,_ she pleaded. _I thought he felt the same way…_

"…**you **matter to me," Duke finished, each word said with quiet deliberation.

_Huh?_ Malik, though, tears drying up in her befuddlement. _Does he mean… Or not?_

"It does matter to me," Duke repeated. "But it doesn't change how I feel about you, Malik." He smiled softly, reaching out with one hand to tug her closer. "I… I… Suki da yo, Malik Ishtar."

Her lips parting in a soundless gasp, Malik felt as if she couldn't breathe. Her heartbeat was a thunderous roar in her ears, pounding out Duke's words over and over again: _Suki da yo, suki da yo, suki da yo…_

_He…what? _"You…really?" Malik asked incredulously.

"Yes," Duke promised. He caressed her face with one hand, his thumb wiping away the tears drying on her cheek. His body shifted minutely closer to hers, the knuckles of her clenched hands brushing up against his shirt.

It was only then, as she looked up into his love-clouded eyes, and felt his breath on her skin, that she realized she was standing there in front of him, practically topless.

Actually, she **was** topless. The bundle of her shirt she held clasped to her chest was her only claim to modesty.

And she was pressed almost right up against him.

But she almost didn't care.

The way he was looking at her was like…

She didn't know how to describe it, but it made her wonder if Ryou and Bakura weren't right about him being in love with her.

"I…" She shuddered as Duke's caressing fingers across her cheek sent a frisson of pleasure down her spine. "I…care about you, too, Duke," she said, unable, as of yet, to return his sentiments verbally. No matter how much she might want to.

It just wasn't in her to embrace this new relationship so completely. Impulsive she may have been, but careful was her watchword when something involved her heart. She may have given her heart to him, but as long as she didn't voice that fact aloud, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much if things went wrong.

Though, for some reason, she really didn't expect them to. Go wrong, that is.

But Duke didn't seem at all disappointed with her answer – and that made her wonder if he could see through her as easily as if she weren't lying. If he could tell what she really felt, without her having to say it. Because she knew she was lying to herself if she thought that she wasn't halfway in love with Duke already.

Just her luck that when she fell, she fell not only fast, but hard.

"I'm glad," Duke said sincerely, his free hand wrapping around her waist. She shivered as his fingers danced up her spine, though unlike this afternoon, it wasn't from anxiety.

How had she never noticed how sensitive the skin on her back was?

She couldn't help but let out a whimper as Duke caught her mouth up in a kiss, his warm lips moving so softly against hers – just as his hands were kneading her shoulder blades – that it turned her bones to mush. Her grip on her shirt went lax and if it weren't for the fact that they were pressed so close to each other, it would have fallen to the floor, leaving her completely uncovered.

A moan escaped her throat as his fingers traced the patterns on her back, arousing her more than she'd ever thought possible. She melted into him, the slow, lingering kiss letting her feel the tingling that ran so deliciously through her everywhere their skin touched. One hand released her bundled shirt and crept up, winding through raven hair to play with the tight curls at the base of Duke's neck. Tingles and shivers of excitement danced up her spine as she devoured Duke's unique, spicy taste. She moaned again, the vibrations running through Duke's body delightfully.

It was too much. Too much, too fast. She couldn't breathe; she felt like she was going to explode if something didn't happen soon.

And she really wasn't ready for that 'something' to happen. Dreams were one thing…but the reality was much more intimidating, if not actually frightening.

Breaking away with a gasp, Malik stared up into Duke's desire-glazed eyes, blushing slightly at the look he was giving her. Duke smiled softly and took advantage of her stillness to press his lips to hers once more, in a quick, almost chaste kiss. Slowly, the raven-haired boy pulled away, just far enough that their lips were no longer touching, but close enough that Malik could still feel the heat from Duke's breath on her own.

The rush of hormones and endorphins thrumming through her system had completely obliterated any depression or misery on her part. All Malik could think of was that she wanted more. More what, she wasn't sure – and wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Kirei…" Duke breathed, seeming not to notice – or care – what he was saying. One hand came up to comb through her hair, his thumb rubbing teasingly across her kiss-swollen lips before coming to rest on her shoulder.

_Beautiful?_ Malik thought, her heart skipping a beat. She'd been called sexy, good-looking – gorgeous, even – but never had anyone ever called her beautiful. Not and meant it… And the way Duke whispered it with such passion, such fervor…she really wanted to believe it… _Me?_ _But I'm not…_ Remembering her circumstances – and the state of her gender – she shook her head. "I'm not," she argued, pulling back slightly. She blushed again as she noticed her clothing – or lack thereof. "Especially like this."

Not noticing how his eyes followed – and drank in the view like it would quench a thousand years of thirst – she turned around and quickly slipped back into her shirt. Duke's hand on her wrist simultaneously prevented her from zipping it and turned her around to face him.

"You don't have to," he told her, casting an alluring glance at her exposed cleavage. "We could…continue this. If you wanted." He gave her a teasing look. True, this definitely wasn't the best time or situation for even thinking of such things…but a little boyfriend-induced self-confidence could go a long way to clearing up old insecurities.

Malik blushed yet again. She was quite certain her face had turned red more times in that one day than in her entire life previous. The idea was almost ludicrous – would have been, if not for the fact that it was also arousing. "I'm not about to have sex with you like **this**!" Malik exclaimed, gesturing with her free hand at her open shirt – and partially revealed breasts.

As a guy it would be one thing – or maybe **more** than one thing, considering the shorter rest periods needed when one's body was fueled by teenage hormones – but as a **girl**?

Not a chance. No matter how curious she was; she remembered that poor feline…

"Why not?" Duke asked blithely, not at all embarrassed about showing his appreciation of the view. "Not many men have ever had such an opportunity – to find out what sex is like for a woman." He stroked his thumb across the pulse point on her wrist, a smirk lighting in his eyes as he noted her quickening breath. He wasn't about to push her into anything, but this conversation was definitely taking her mind off less pleasant memories…

And he wasn't **averse** to any carnal activities she might agree to. Though it was mostly because he had a feeling she'd say no.

"Not many men would **want** such an opportunity," Malik shot back with a low chuckle, shoulders rolling back as she tried to tug her hand free from his grasp and failed. She smiled slightly as she watched his green eyes dilate at the sight. It was nice, the effect this body had on him, even if the body itself wasn't all that fun to have.

"Do you?" Duke asked, cutting straight to the heart of the situation. Of course, whether or not the answer was in the affirmative, it was all a matter of timing…

"I…" Malik blushed and averted her eyes. _Do I?_ She wasn't sure…but even if she did, now was not the time to explore her options. She felt wrung out, almost completely done in. Malik swayed closer to Duke in her tiredness. "I've been riding an emotional roller coaster all afternoon and I'm about to crash," Malik said honestly. "I'm too exhausted to think, let alone make any decisions of this magnitude."

_Just what I thought,_ Duke thought, a bit of pleased satisfaction sparking in him as he knew he'd received an honest answer. Malik trusted him enough to tell him the truth instead of trying to snow him – that had to count for something, right?

He did, however, know a thing or two about bad memories and how they tended to ambush you. Especially when you'd been giving them free rein to play in your conscious mind – they tended to take a mile with that given inch and take over your unconscious mind. Whether you wanted them to or not. **Especially** if you didn't want them to.

In other words, Malik would have nightmares tonight. He'd bet his favorite dice earring on it.

Turning back into the real world, Duke noticed with some disappointment that while he had been lost in his musings, Malik had zipped her shirt up again.

_Damn. And I was enjoying the view, too, _he thought mock-grumpily.

Ah, well. It wasn't like it was conducive to his ability to think, to have such beauty on display.

Malik looked at him and gave him a lopsided smile. Though she was tired – almost unbelievably so; it was amazing how an emotional bloodletting could take it out of you – she didn't want to leave. Didn't want to leave **him**.

Duke didn't particularly want to separate from her, either, but he knew she needed to make the first move. For her own piece of mind.

Thankfully, she did.

"Would you…stay with me tonight?" she asked hesitantly.

Duke smiled. "Of course." He swept a bow and said with mock-civility, "I may not be a knight in shining armor, but I'll do my best to slay your dreaming dragons whilst you slumber, milord."

She chuckled and shook her head at his arrogance, though she was touched at the sincerity of his offer. And that he didn't refer to her as 'milady.'

Duke straightened and joined in her mirth. "Go up and get changed for bed," he said quietly, once the laughter had died out. "I'll bank the fire and be up in a minute."

Malik quirked a wry grin. "Your room or mine?" she asked teasingly.

Duke chuffed a laugh and thought for a moment. "Mine," he said decisively. At her arched brow, he shrugged and explained, "My bed's bigger."

She rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs.

Duke watched her until she'd climbed out of sight before quickly putting out the fire. Turning out the lights, he followed Malik upstairs. When he arrived at the doorway to his room, he peeked inside and found Malik sitting cross-legged on the edge of his bed, wearing her usual boxers and T-shirt. She was running a comb through her hair, working out the tangles that a day at the beach had snarled into her flaxen tresses.

Disappearing into the bathroom between his bedroom and Malik's, Duke quickly brushed his teeth and changed into his own pajama pants and tanktop before entering his bedroom.

Malik looked up and smiled as she saw him.

"Ready for bed?" he asked, coming over to stand beside her.

She nodded. "You think I'd be over this by now," she mused, giving her hair one last swipe with the comb before placing it on the bedside table.

"Some things you don't get over," Duke said softly. "You just get past them."

Malik's eyes closed for a moment and she made a sound of agreement. "Hopefully, anyway." She shook her head, rising to help him turn down the covers. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Are you kidding?" Duke joked to relieve the tension. "A beautiful girl wants to spend the night in my bed – why would I have a problem with that?"

She flushed and ducked her head, chuckling slightly. "When you put it that way…"

Duke lifted the sheet, holding it up as she slipped underneath it. He twitched it into place on top of her, before joining her. Malik had curled up against one of the pillows, facing towards him. He wasn't sure exactly how to do this – he'd never shared a bed with anyone before – but figured he couldn't go wrong with cuddling.

Tentatively Duke reached out and pulled Malik into his arms. She tensed slightly and he was just about to release her when she relaxed into his embrace, body going slack. A few more moments of minute shifting on both their parts was all it took to get comfortable. Malik lay on Duke's chest, his chin resting atop her head.

Snuggling up next to her boyfriend, Malik sighed in contentment, eyes going half-lidded as she listened to the beat of Duke's heart beneath her ear. For all that she would perform daredevil, reckless stunts on her motorcycle, safety was a big thing with Malik. Probably because she'd never had an overabundance of it in her life. She felt so safe with Duke – and she didn't know why. But she wasn't about to question it. "This is nice."

Carding his fingers through her hair, Duke had to agree. "It is."

"I'd forgotten how nice it is not to sleep alone," she murmured, almost as if she didn't realize she was speaking aloud.

Interest piqued by her comment, Duke asked, "Oh?"

Malik nodded against his chest. "The last time…I think I was ten. Right after my…initiation." She shivered at the memory and cuddled closer. "Rishid let me sleep with him at night until the nightmares stopped."

Pausing in his finger-combing, Duke started simply massaging her head, smiling softly when the lines of worry faded from her brow and a sound similar to a purr sounded from her throat. "That was the last time you shared a bed with someone, then?"

She nodded slightly and then stopped short. She snorted. "Well…on purpose, anyway."

Duke frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. "Nani?"

She chuckled and slitted her eyes open to smirk up at him for a moment, before closing them again. "When Marik first got his own body…he didn't think I knew, but he'd sneak out of his bed after he thought I was asleep and climb into mine. He'd be back in his own by morning, but I knew."

"I wonder why?" Duke asked, relaxing once he discovered the innocuous source of Malik's comment.

"He missed sharing a body with me," Malik said on a yawn.

A chuckle rumbled through Duke's chest, resounding under her ear. "Go to sleep, sabaku no bijin. Morning will come soon enough."

_Beauty?_ was all Malik had time to think before she had descended into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Hours later found Duke still awake, keeping watch on the bundle of contradictions that currently occupied both his bed and his thoughts.

He wondered if he would have borne up as strong if he'd been the one changed. He'd thought on it, and decided that he could have endured – if he knew the time limit. Anticipating the moment when he got his own body back would be the only thing that kept him sane.

But Malik had only her own firmly-held belief that Marik would come back and change her back. Her fate was left up to a capricious adolescent in a man's body.

He would have gone mad.

Malik, however, despite her change of gender, was unabashedly, unashamedly herself. Himself. Whichever pronoun you used, Malik was Malik. He really hadn't known her well at all back when she'd been a guy, but as far as he could tell, she hadn't changed her personality along with her gender. She was a bundle of contradictions – as beautiful as a lotus flower in bloom, and as deadly as an Egyptian asp. She liked drag-racing her motorcycle, watching action movies, reading mystery novels, and was a shameless sun worshipper and hedonist. She was a better housekeeper than a legion of professional maids – his house, the Black Crown, hell, even the back room inventory had never been cleaner – and was so vegetarian he wondered if she was a rabbit in a former life.

_A Playboy bunny, maybe, _came the whimsical and unbidden notion.

Shaking off his rather ecchi thoughts, Duke continued his solitary musings on the mystery that was Malik Ishtar. He knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight – both because he wanted to be awake to safeguard Malik from any nightmares and because he wanted to enjoy this unique opportunity to hold her in his arms – and he couldn't imagine anything better to reflect on than the beautiful enigma in his arms.

Malik made a noise in her sleep and cuddled closer to Duke, prompting a smile from his lips.

" Sweet dreams, my little desert beauty," Duke murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "Sweet dreams."


	4. Bad Girls Go To Domino

**Bad Girls Go To Domino**

* * *

**In Which Bakura Is A Bitch, Malik Is A Minx, And Marik Is Mischievous**

* * *

**Japanese**

Aa – Yes (Informal)  
Ane-chan – Older Sister (used when referring to one's own sister)  
Chisaii Houko – Little Treasure  
Gomen ne – I'm sorry  
Koibito/Koi – Lover, Boy/Girlfriend  
Minna-san – Everyone  
Sugoi! – All right/Awesome!

* * *

Malik should have expected it. She'd thought after their group day at the beach that things would quiet down again. After all, Yugi and his friends had done their once a month 'hang out with the people on the lunatic fringe' thing. There was no reason to think one of them – the very same one as last time – would show up at Duke's door the very next week.

She knew that she was being uncharitable – not that that was much different from how she was normally – but still…

"A dance club?" Malik asked incredulously, frowning.

Nodding, Mai said, "Yup. A new one's just opened up, and I convinced Seto to go with me by making it a group event so I won't constantly be dragging him out onto the dance floor." She gave a wry grin and a toss of her head as if to say, 'Men!' "We're planning to go on Friday."

"And you want Duke and me to come?" Malik confirmed.

"You, Duke, Ryou, Bakura…hell, I'd ask Marik to come if we could find him," Mai said, shrugging. "The more the merrier, you know?"

Malik snorted and tossed her white-blonde mane over one tanktop-clad shoulder. She'd finally caved after the beach trip and bought a bra – just one – and had to admit that it was a great help. No more backaches, and not as many men stared at her.

Once she got turned back into a guy, however, she planned to have a barbeque and burn it in celebration in lieu of roasting her 'brother' over the coals.

"A dance club isn't exactly the kind of place you'd want to set Marik loose," Malik said. She rolled her eyes. "Ra, any place with **people** who are still sane isn't the kind of place you want to set Marik loose."

"Fine then; it's not like I can find him to invite him anyway," Mai dismissed. "But you and Duke **are** coming." Her voice was firm, resolved.

Just like it had been when she'd forced Malik to try on half a dozen bathing suits the weekend previous.

Inwardly sighing, Malik knew – from personal experience, yet – that it would be easier just to give in. "Fine."

"Sugoi!" Mai exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Now all we need is to get you and Bakura something to wear." She headed towards the door, tugging Malik along behind her.

Malik's face fell. _I should have known. This is Mai 'Shopaholic' Valentine we're talking about here._ "We're going shopping again?" she asked tiredly, wiggling out of Mai's grip long enough to grab her wallet. She quickly locked the door, following Mai out to her car.

"After we pick up Bakura," Mai agreed. "We only need to buy clothes for her, though."

"Not me?" Malik asked, masking her disappointment with surprise. What, she didn't need to dress up to go to the club?

"No. You and I are almost exactly the same size now," Mai told her, putting the key in the ignition and turning the car on. Pulling out into traffic, she continued, "I figured there's no point in buying you something that you'll only wear once when we can most likely find something in my closet."

"Then what was with buying me a swimsuit last month?" Malik asked, frowning.

Shrugging, Mai admitted, "I figured Bakura wouldn't go along with getting one unless you did too, if only so you wouldn't feel singled out."

Malik's face fell flat. "So that whole utterly horrifying experience was all so **Bakura** would buy a suit?" she asked incredulously.

Mai chuckled. "Ah, c'mon, Malik, don't tell me you didn't enjoy the way Duke reacted to that bikini."

Malik blushed. She'd definitely enjoyed Duke's reaction. The whole day had been wonderful – even showing him her back hadn't detracted from how enjoyable it was – and falling asleep in his arms had ensured her a night of nightmare-free slumber. "That's not the point," she blustered, trying to cover up her embarrassment. "He would have reacted like that to any suit in your closet, I'm sure."

Mai shrugged. "Maybe," she said noncommittally. "But you also have a bigger bust size than I do." She seemed a bit putout by that: a **guy** – granted, a guy in girl form – having bigger breasts than she did. "And I was worried the tops would be too tight."

Malik made a face reminiscent of what one would make after sucking on a lemon. She just **knew** this whole day boded ill for her continued sanity.

Kind of like spending the day baby-sitting Marik back before he grew out of the 'Terrible Twos' stage. Only slightly more horrifying.

* * *

**Two Hours Later – Mai's Apartment**

* * *

"How in the nine levels of hell did you ever manage to talk me into this?" Malik glared at the pile of lilac-colored silk that Mai had finally decided on.

Just like with the bikini, **without** Malik's input.

"I can be extremely persuasive when I want to be," Mai replied smugly, taking the garment from Malik and carefully folding it into a box that also contained shoes and other…female accessories.

Malik huffed, folding her arms across her chest, which was once again clad in her lavender tanktop. "That may be, but still…"

Mai waved away the other blonde's protests. "Ah, don't worry, Malik-chan; Duke will love it."

Blushing – from either the nickname, or the reference to her sort-of relationship with Duke, she wasn't sure – Malik said, blustering, "And how can you be so sure?"

"He liked you in that bikini, didn't he?" Mai arched one blonde brow, a smile lurking around her lips.

Malik ducked her head and grumbled, "Be that as it may, he's never cared about this sort of thing before."

"He's a guy," Mai said, as if that explained everything.

"Current physiology aside, Mai, so am I," Malik said icily.

Finally tiring of listening to the two blondes' bickering, Bakura broke into the conversation. "If I have to do this, **you** have to do this, Ishtar." She leaned back against the wall and glared at her friend.

"Neither of us **has** to do this," Malik pointed out.

"Ah, girls, Duke and Ryou will be amazed by you," Mai told them. "Besides, you **do** have to go through with this; you promised."

"Like this would be the first promise I've broken," Bakura and Malik chorused.

"But not where it involves your koibitos," Mai pointed out, inwardly grinning as she saw how her choice of words caused the other two to blush furiously. She didn't know whether Malik and Duke had gotten that far, but she was pretty sure that they were both thinking about it. And while Bakura and Ryou may not have gone all the way, they definitely weren't **completely** unfamiliar with each other in a more intimate sense.

And even if they were, after tonight, Ryou, no matter how shy, and Duke, no matter how gentlemanly, wouldn't be able to keep their hands to themselves. Not if she had anything to say about it, or her name wasn't Mai Valentine!

"I still can't believe you talked me into this," Malik reiterated once her face had returned to its normal tanned shade. "I'm going to end up looking more feminine than Bakura." She looked aghast at the possibly, prompting a glare from the thief.

"You **always** look more feminine than me, Malik," Bakura said smugly. "After all, **I've** never worn pastels." She gestured to the lavender tanktop and khaki cargo pants the other was wearing, a stark contrast to her own torn blue jeans, bright rainbow tie-dyed T-shirt and worn brown sandals.

"Yes, you look very 'psychodelic,'" Malik quipped.

Calling on her great mastery of maturity, Bakura stuck her tongue out at the Egyptian.

"Girls, girls, calm down," Mai broke in, wanting to stave off the incipient fight she could see brewing.

Malik sighed in resignation and Bakura reluctantly returned her tongue to its harbor.

"Thank you," Mai said aggrievedly, before shaking off her annoyance. "Besides, it's a good thing you don't wear pastels, Bakura. With your coloring, they'd wash you out."

"Which is the reason why I like black," the yami said. "It also helps me blend into the darkness when I'm performing a little B&E on the Kaiba mansion." She smiled smugly, knowing Mai was dating the owner of said mansion.

"You look like a Goth when you wear black," Malik told her cattily. "You even have the fangs for it, and those dark red eyes really make you look so very bloodthirsty."

Snarling at the Egyptian, Bakura bared her teeth – pointed canines and all.

Rolling her eyes at their antics, Mai grabbed her keys and her purse. "C'mon, the mall closes in five hours, and we're going to need every minute," she said, pushing them both out the door. "We may have found Malik some clothes…"

"I can't believe you talked me into wearing a **dress**!" Malik exclaimed, aghast.

Steam-rollering over the Egyptian's words, Mai finished, "But Bakura still needs an outfit."

"We're doomed," Malik said fatalistically, remembering their last trip to said locale – and how she'd dreaded it then.

Rightly so, too.

"Kill me now," Bakura agreed tiredly.

* * *

**Three Looooonng Hours Later**

* * *

"But I thought you **liked** leather," Mai defended her final choice.

"It's too short," Bakura reiterated her complaint. "And too tight," she added a moment later, squirming uncomfortably. "I can hardly breathe in this thing – either of these things," she amended. She growled under her breath, a string of Egyptian curses not quite loud enough to be heard by the only person nearby who could translate them.

Long used to living with someone who swore in another language when he was ticked off – which was often – Mai just gave the white-haired yami a look. "Then we'll buy them a size larger," she offered as a compromise.

Bakura grumbled, but sensing that the blonde would not be dissuaded, eventually gave in. "Fine," she spat out.

Mai grinned in triumph and headed back to the clothing racks to get the chosen items in the appropriate sizes.

"Thank Ra," Malik sighed once the other blonde had left. Leaning back against the dressing room wall, she massaged the headache that was starting to grow behind her temples. "I thought she'd never decide on anything."

"Yeah, **Mai** decided," Bakura grumbled.

Malik turned to her friend and snorted. "Oh, please. You weren't actually expecting to have any say in this, were you? I know **I** certainly didn't."

Bakura shrugged lacklusterly. "I'm just glad it's over," she voiced her opinion of the situation.

"Yeah, until next time," Malik pointed out.

Bakura's eyes went so wide they almost popped out of her head. "Next time?!" she squeaked, voice rising two octaves.

Malik gave her a pitying look. "You heard Mai the first time we did this, when we went shopping for swimsuits. Now that she has two – for the moment, at least – female shopping companions, you don't honestly think she's going to just let us **go**? Especially considering how clueless both of us are about women's fashions?"

Bakura whimpered.

* * *

**Friday Night**

* * *

"We're here!" Mai announced needlessly, pulling into a parking space, a bass beat echoing for blocks around the club to which the parking lot was connected.

"Oh, joy," Bakura grumbled from the passenger seat. "Remind me again why Malik got to drive here with Duke, but I couldn't come with Ryou?"

Mai smiled innocently, unlocking the car doors. "I thought you'd like to make an entrance. Ryou will **freak** when he sees you."

"Freak?" Bakura asked doubtfully as she followed the blonde towards the club. The last time she'd seen Ryou do anything that could be labeled as 'freaking' was about four weeks after she'd gotten her own body. He'd had a horror movie marathon one weekend, and had woken up screaming about a guy in a hockey mask, carrying a chainsaw, chasing him down Elm Street and saying that he knew what Ryou did last summer.

She could never understand why Ryou liked those movies so much if they scared him to death like that.

Men.

"In a good way, of course," Mai reassured the other girl. "Trust me on this: if it's one thing I know, it's how to make a guy want you."

"Ryou **already** wants me, Valentine," Bakura stated firmly, though she blushed at how brazenly blatant her statement was. She was very sure of herself on that point; even if mind-links couldn't lie, she'd know it by the way he looked at her.

As if she was the only girl in the world for him…and he was elated at that fact.

Mai pursed her lips in a mock-frown. "You know what I mean," she chastised the thief. "Once he sees you, he'll know the only reason you went through with it is because of him."

"And?" Bakura prompted, wondering where in the hell Mai was going with this.

"And he'll be extremely…appreciative, if you know what I mean." Mai wiggled her perfectly plucked brows suggestively.

Bakura blushed again. _Yes, actually, I **do** know…_

All right, so she'd go along with this 'entrance' thing. Ryou had just better enjoy tonight, because there was no way she'd be doing this again.

Famous last thoughts.

* * *

After paying their admission to the club, Mai left to find the others. Bakura used her and Ryou's mind-link to locate him without giving her presence away.

_Might as well milk this for all it's worth,_ she thought dryly. She headed for the bar, where Ryou's aura was emanating from. Spying her hikari sitting on a stool at the end of the bar, facing away from her, she took a deep breath for courage. She strode towards him with false confidence – pointedly ignoring the suggestive leers and whistles sent her way – coming to a halt little more than a foot away from her lover, her shadow falling over him.

It took a few moments – during which Bakura talked herself into and out of fifteen different escape plans – but Ryou finally noticed that someone was standing in front of him. He turned from his idle contemplation of the club's nightlife…

…and his jaw dropped.

The phrase 'If looks could kill' had been applied to Bakura before…but never in such an erotic way. She looked like seven kinds of sin – and all of them deadly.

She wore leather, and little of it. Her habitual black combat boots were on her feet, but instead of the usual jeans accompanying them, an almost indecently short, low-riding miniskirt hugged her hips. Her deck – and most likely a hidden knife as well – was strapped to her left thigh with a matching band, not unlike the one Mai wore during Battle City. Her top was red, blood red; a satin bodice that laced up tight against her skin. Lifting and separating, it made the most of her small breasts, giving her actual cleavage.

And Ryou was familiar enough with his lover's body to note that she had either, for once, forgone underwear – or was wearing a pair so skimpy that they might as well not be there.

_Gulp._ " Lara Croft, eat your heart out," Ryou breathed.

"You like it?" Bakura asked coyly, sauntering over to her lover.

_You know I do,_ Ryou sent, unable to voice his words aloud. _You look…_

Amazing? Incredible? Unbelievable?

Perfect?

Ne, not that he could voice his words aloud if he couldn't **think** of any.

Bakura grinned. "Thanks," she said quietly, almost shyly. Slipping up onto the stool next to Ryou, her smile faltered as she realized how tight the skirt was; the leather confines made it hard for her to move as freely as she normally did. Grumbling slightly, she crossed her legs at the ankle and leaned back against the bar, trying to ignore how the tight top constricted her breathing. "I can't believe I actually **paid** for this," Bakura complained. "These are some of the most uncomfortable clothes I've ever worn."

"The price you pay to look fashionable," Ryou replied absently, eyes avidly drinking in Bakura's attire. "And absolutely, utterly, drop-dead gorgeous," he added under his breath.

She sent him a swift look, having heard those last words. She smiled slightly, before huffing. "Well, it's a price I'm not willing to pay again. It was a waste of money; I'm never going to wear these clothes again."

Ryou looked crushed at that pronouncement. "You aren't?" he asked sadly.

Seeing the lustful look in her lover's eyes – and finding that despite how exposed, self-conscious, and downright uncomfortable she felt in the revealing clothes, she did enjoy Ryou looking at her like that – Bakura drawled thoughtfully, "Well, it is a woman's prerogative to change her mind…"

"And a man's prerogative to help you change it," Ryou murmured in agreement.

"You think you can, chisaii houko?" she asked, mirth dancing in her blood red eyes, one foot reaching out to knock against his.

"I'm certainly going to **try**, my little thief," Ryou said, capturing her wayward foot with his ankle.

She smirked, and let him hold her there for a moment, before pulling away. Footsie was a game to be played where neither of the participants could see how they were moving, after all.

Ryou smiled back, then did a double-take. Bakura tensed slightly as he reached out to her; his hand rose, hovering hesitantly in midair for a moment before finally settling on Bakura's right cheek. "It's gone," he said plainly, no other words needing to be spoken for Bakura to understand what he was talking about.

Bakura nodded almost imperceptibly. _I was wondering when he'd notice._ "I didn't want people staring at me," she said, trying to sound as if that were the only reason she'd done it, instead of the minuscule amount of vanity that had let Mai talk her into wearing first that bathing suit and now these clothes. While most of the women of her own time had been scarred by life, if not by knife blades, modern thoughts of beauty were that women should be frail, fragile, unblemished flowers.

She had never been frail. Her life – and afterlife – had ensured that she was no longer easily breakable. And if she could be compared to any piece of flora, it was a black rose, heavily thorned. Ryou was the only one who dared to – or even wanted to – pick her. Not that she thought Ryou wanted her to be perfect. But, doubts crept in where they weren't wanted.

Especially since Joey and Tristan had spent lots of time staring at her breasts, but none looking at her face. Not that Bakura liked them ogling her, but it was disconcerting that they wouldn't look her in the eye. One could argue that it was because they were afraid she'd catch them in the act, but that hadn't kept them from leering at her cleavage, now, had it?

It was one of the few times she'd been envious of Malik. Bakura was the one who was really female, but Malik was the one with a body that could stop traffic. She thought it was slightly unfair. But thankfully, Ryou didn't seem to feel the same way.

Ryou's lips quirked up in a grin. "If you didn't want people staring at you then you shouldn't have let Mai dress you," he said dryly. "I know I'm not the only one enjoying the view…"

A hint of jealousy had crept into Ryou's voice, prompting a momentary flash of smugness from Bakura, before she subsided back into her worry. Huffing, Bakura looked down at her lap, her clasped hands clenching and unclenching anxiously. "So…"

"So?" Ryou prompted gently.

"What do you think?" Bakura asked, raising her head to look him in the eye. "How does it look like this?" She gestured to her now-unmarred cheek. "Better? Worse?"

Ryou studied her for a moment, his gaze almost unnerving in its inscrutable intensity. "Different," he said after a moment's thought.

_Well, **that's** not vague…_ Bakura thought, giving a mental eye roll. Outwardly, she just raised one snowy brow.

Ryou laughed softly. "Really, that's it. Just different. Although…"

"Yes?" Bakura asked, thinly-veiled impatience coloring her tone – and covering up the concern.

Ryou blushed sheepishly. "I kinda liked you better with the scars. They're the real you, you know?"

A slow, genuine smile spread across Bakura's face. _How I ever got so lucky, I'll never know. Maybe five thousand years in the Ring counts as atonement for a few decades of mayhem?_ "You're the best, Ryou, you know that?"

"And the best deserves the best," Ryou agreed, one hand reaching out to clasp hers, intent clear in his words and actions.

* * *

"Hey, Mai," Yugi greeted the blonde as she came up to them. He giggled as Yami whispered something inaudible into his ear, blushing slightly.

Mai shook her head at the two boys' antics. "Hey, minna-san," she said happily. "Is everyone here?" She glanced around at the table, noting both Joey and Tristan's presence, but not seeing Téa or Ryou anywhere.

"Téa's getting drinks for everyone, and Ryou's at the bar 'cause he wanted to people-watch," Tristan supplied.

Mai nodded and sat down. "Seto's got a late meeting; he'll be here in half an hour or so," she explained her lack of date.

"And Malik and Bakura?" Yami asked, as always worried about the more volatile members of their group. Granted, those two were on the fringes, but ever since he crushed the evil from their hearts, he felt responsible for them.

Mai smirked, a silent taunting of 'I know something you don't know.' "Bakura met up with Ryou over by the bar and Malik and Duke should be here any minute now."

Yami's eyes narrowed, but before he had a chance to say anything, Duke walked up to their table.

"Hey, guys," the dice duelist greeted, snagging a chair from a nearby empty table and sitting in it backwards.

"Hey, Duke, glad you could make it," Yugi said jubilantly.

"Wouldn't miss this for the world," Duke replied.

"Speaking of…" Mai said, a knowing smile on her face. "Where's Malik?"

Duke flushed at her suggestive look and cleared his throat. He was **not** going to be embarrassed about his relationship with Malik. No matter what Mai said.

Easier thought than done.

"Checking her coat, last I saw. If she doesn't get back in…" Duke checked his watch, "…one minute and thirty-eight seconds, I have her permission – grudgingly given, I might add – to send you after her to roust her out from wherever she's hiding."

"Why would Malik be hiding?" Joey asked dumbly.

Duke sighed and shook his head. He wasn't going there, no matter how much fun it was to taunt the blond. Wheeler could be **so** oblivious sometimes.

Luckily – to keep temptation at bay, anyway – at that moment, Malik walked up behind him, placing on hand on his shoulder. "Hey, lover," she whispered throatily.

Joey, Tristan, and even Yami's jaws dropped. Even Yugi's eyes widened a bit. The bikini Malik had worn at the beach was sexy, but **this**…

Malik's attire gave new meaning to the phrase 'femme fatale.' The Egyptian girl was wearing a lavender dress. It was tight in **all** the right places, with a not-quite knee-length skirt made out of a shimmery, filmy material that caught the light just right. Her sandals were in a matching shade of pale purple, with ribbon-straps laced all the way up her calves. Her flaxen hair, normally left free, had been caught up in a loose knot at the nape of her neck, a few stray tendrils curling in casual disarray around her face giving her that 'just out of bed' sexy look. If one looked closely, they would notice that she was even wearing corresponding nail polish – on both her hands **and** feet. Simple golden ankhs hung from her ears, bands of the metal wrapped around her bare arms and wrists. Her neck was bare save for a matching ankh pedant, the shining color making her skin glow.

If the four friends hadn't known this was Malik, they never would have guessed that 'she' wasn't really a girl.

"Wow…" Tristan breathed.

"Ditto," Joey said dumbly.

Malik flushed and sidled closer to Duke, dropping down into a chair right next to him. She fiddled with one of her golden bracelets, obviously discomfited by all the attention she was receiving.

And from gay men, yet. True, 'she' was really a guy – but it wasn't like she looked it at the moment, was it?

Luckily, she was saved by the bell – in the form of one Téa Gardener.

"I'm back!" Téa announced, brandishing a tray of colorful drinks. "Hey, Mai," the brunette greeted. She started, blinking as she caught sight of the couple next to the blonde – or at least its female half – then smiled. "Duke, Malik," she said pleasantly. "Glad you could make it."

"Wish I could say the same," Malik grumbled, glaring at Joey and Tristan, both of whom had yet to shut their gaping mouths.

They blushed, mouths closing with audible snaps, and averted their eyes.

Téa gave them an exasperated look and took her place at the table, quickly passing out the five drinks she'd ordered. "Well, at least this evening shouldn't be boring, anyway," she said wryly.

"You got that right," Duke said under his breath, one arm snaking out to pull Malik closer. She smiled slightly and snuggled into his side. It may have been a girly action, but it felt nice, and it also had the added benefit of concealing her apparel from the two unattached males at the table.

It did, however, leave her in clear view of the lone, unattached female member of their group.

"That is a very nice dress, Malik," Téa complimented, taking a sip of her soda. "Where'd you get it?"

Seeing Malik was at a loss, Mai jumped in with, "It's one of mine, actually."

"And is Bakura's ensemble something you pulled from the depths of your closet as well?" Duke directed his question to Mai, though he was unable to take his eyes off his 'girlfriend' long enough to ask his question.

Shaking her head, the blonde said, "No, **that** we had to shop for."

"For three whole **horrifying** hours," Malik interjected, giving an exaggerated shudder for effect. "You have not known true terror until you've spent an afternoon at the mall with Bakura. And I've done it **twice**."

Joey and Tristan, for once, managed to look sympathetic instead of leering at Malik. Despite popular misconceptions, not even gay men liked shopping all that much.

Mai's lips twisted into a wry frown. "Yes, well… Looking good is a time-consuming process. Especially with the both of you balking me at every turn." She glared, though it held no heat.

Malik rolled her eyes, imploring the ceiling tiles with a 'Why me?' expression.

Mai shook her head. "Anyway, I knew there wasn't anything in my closet that would work for Bakura. Purple is my color; luckily, it's Malik's as well. But I don't own anything in red…"

"…which is **definitely** Bakura's color," Joey breathed, eyes avidly focused on the tomb-robber who was approaching their table, conversing with Ryou, who was at her side.

Tristan elbowed him. " Joey, do you **want** her to kill you?" he hissed.

Joey blushed. "Ah…no?" he guessed.

Tristan glared at him. "Yeah, 'no,' Joe."

Joey made a face, huffed slightly. He rose from his chair and stalked off. Tristan wilted as his friend left and also left the table, heading for the bar.

"When are those two going to get a clue?" Mai grumbled, eyes flicking back and forth between the two boys.

"Who knows?" Téa sighed.

Bakura and Ryou arrived at the table at that moment, so the two girls' conversation was cut short.

Ryou frowned, glancing around the half-empty table as he took a seat. "Where'd Joey and Tristan go?"

"Hopefully somewhere far, far away," Bakura said, hooking a nearby chair with her foot and dragging it near. "So I don't have to put up with them ogling me all evening."

"You said it, sister," Malik said tiredly.

Bakura rolled her eyes at the moniker. Dropping down into the chair she'd snagged, she sat sideways in the seat so she could face Ryou, arms folded along the back.

"Well, as long as they're gone…" Duke said, turning to his date. "Wanna dance?"

Titling her head to the side, Malik appeared to give the idea due consideration. Finally, she shrugged and nodded. "Sure, why not?"

"Sugoi!" Duke grasped her hand in his and pulled her up from the table, leading her out onto the dance floor.

"Well, now, that sounds like a good idea to me," Mai said as she watched the duo head for the dance floor. A smile broke out on her face as she caught sight of a certain blue-eyed CEO making his way through the crowds. "And my preferred partner just walked in the door. Catch you guys later!" With that, she sauntered away from the table, leaving the yamis, their hikaris, and Téa as the sole occupants of the table.

But not for long.

Téa, no fool she, could sense the rising tension between the two yamis. Desperate to get away from the awkward silence that she knew would ensue – with Yami and Bakura at the same table, silence was the best they could hope for; a loud barrage of volleying insults the worst (and what they most likely could expect) – Téa turned to Yugi and asked, "You wanna?"

Exchanging a look with his yami and receiving a nod in reply, Yugi shrugged. "Sure."

And then there were three…

"You don't mind that Yugi's dancing with Téa?" Ryou asked for lack of any better opening conversational gambits.

"I don't like dancing that much," Yami dismissed. Seeming to feel as if he should continue the conversation, he asked, "You?"

"Me, neither," Ryou agreed.

Bakura just shrugged. Picking up a paper umbrella discarded from someone's drink, she started mechanically opening and closing it.

A tense silence held reign at the table, seconds ticking away like a countdown to an execution.

Whispers of unease cloaked by disgruntlement and self-righteous anger escaped from Bakura's tight control to whistle through the corridors towards Ryou's soul room.

The hikari, sensing that the tension between the two yamis was the cause of this, asked, _'Kura?_

Apparently Bakura had been so engrossed in ignoring the Pharaoh that she'd lost herself in contemplation. Startlement was a quick flash of emotion along their bond before Bakura responded. _Yes, koi?_

This definitely needed to be resolved, Ryou decided. They couldn't go on like this, with both Bakura and Yami unable to be civil when they were in proximity to each other. Or, rather, with Yami unwilling to give Bakura a chance, and with Bakura unwilling – with good reason, he admitted – to make the first move. _Maybe you should talk to Yami… _he suggested hesitantly. _Sort of clear the air?_

Feelings of agitated reflection seeped through their bond. _Perhaps I should,_ she reluctantly agreed. _If only because I'm tired of him and his little group treating you like one of the seven plagues, _she hastened to add.

Of course it would be because of him, and not because of any irritation on her part, Ryou thought, amused in spite of himself. _I'll meet you at the bar when you're finished,_ Ryou sent and quickly got up from his chair. "I'm going to go get something to drink," he excused himself, and left.

Blinking in confused bemusement after the younger man, Yami said, "Huh?"

Bakura snorted, bringing the other's attention to herself. "If that's the extent of your conversational abilities, then I'm glad you don't acknowledge my existence," she grumbled.

"What?" Yami asked distractedly, still slightly out of it.

Bakura sighed. "You can't even stand to be in the same room with me without treating me like a nonentity."

Yami huffed. "You can't honestly say that you and I have anything – other than Egypt – in common."

"Maybe not," Bakura allowed. "But there's no reason for you to avoid my hikari – or Marik's. I never thought I'd see the day that the great Pharaoh Atemu was unsure of his magical abilities."

"What do you mean, tomb-robber?" Yami demanded disbelievingly.

Examining her fingernails absentmindedly, Bakura appeared once again lost in thought. "Well, you were the one who Mind-Crushed Marik and I," she reminded the other, waiting for his tentative nod before continuing. "You removed the evil from both of us…but you still seem to think we're evil."

"I do not," Yami blustered.

"You must," Bakura stated firmly. "Why else would you avoid Ryou and Malik like you do?"

Yami had no answer for that. Crimson eyes stared down at the table, avoiding her condemning red gaze.

"It hurts him," she said quietly, looking away from that troubled crimson gaze. _It hurts me too…not that I'd ever tell **him** that. _Rounding on the former Pharaoh, she said, each word a measured blow, "Ryou deserves better than a bunch of fair weather friends who follow your lead all the time and stay away from him because you're afraid of me."

Yami opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when it was apparent that he could come up with nothing to say. Finally, he admitted quietly, "You're right."

Bakura blinked. _Did I hear that correctly?_ "I'm afraid I quite didn't hear you, Pharaoh," she said dryly. "Could you speak a little louder?"

Yami's glare was without the heat that was normally directed her way. "You are right," he said grudgingly, deliberately accentuating each word. "The evil that once inhabited both you and Marik is…gone. And…I need to learn to come to terms with that." He let out a gusting breath. "We all do."

Bakura stared hard at Yami, taking in the defeat in the slump of normally strong shoulders, the tiredness etching lines around crimson eyes that held the withered remains of their normal arrogance, the rueful admission of his own hypocrisy that hung heavy in the air over tri-colored spikes of hair…

And gave a sliver of a smile, magnanimously hiding her smugness by not grinning maniacally. She could afford to be mildly generous now that Yami had admitted he was in the wrong. Giving the other a nod in acceptance of the truthfulness of his words, she rose gracefully from her chair and headed off to find Ryou.

Being that…nice and…**polite**…to anyone besides Ryou – or, on occasion, the Ishtars –always sent chills up her spine. And not in a good way.

She **really** needed a drink.

* * *

"I am **so** sorry," Malik said for the third time as they exited the dance floor.

Duke chuckled and shrugged off her apologies. "It's all right."

"No, it's not," Malik countered. "If I keep stepping on your feet, pretty soon they'll be so bruised up you won't be able to walk."

"Then you can carry me out of here," Duke joked.

Malik rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Even as a guy, I wasn't strong enough to lift you."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" Duke asked, pretending to be appalled.

Violet eyes narrowing, Malik hissed, "Duke…" _A sense of humor is all well and good, but can't he be serious for five minutes?_

Cheeks round with suppressed laughter, Duke waved a hand. "Kidding, kidding. But seriously…as athletic as you are, I wouldn't have thought you were that bad a dancer."

_Well, at least he's not afraid to speak his mind,_ Malik thought dryly. "I'm not," she replied. "It's just that I kept forgetting that as a girl I'm supposed to let you lead."

Comprehension dawned in jade green eyes. "Ah…" Duke said knowingly.

Malik gave a humor-skewed scowl. "And it's really hard to get used to moving in these Ra-damned shoes." She glared at her feet, or more specifically, the sandals adorning them. "I swear, high heels must have been originally invented as some sort of ancient torture device."

Husky laughter filled the air. "You didn't have to get all dressed up for me," Duke said through his chuckles. "I wouldn't have cared if you'd shown up in jeans and a T-shirt," he said truthfully.

"Neither would I," Malik said, matching his honesty with her own. "But Mai 'Immovable Object' Valentine has a bit of magic known as the 'Irresistible Force' that even the Millennium Rod can't counteract."

"What, so you wouldn't have gone through all this just for me?" Duke asked jokingly.

Slanting him a quick look, Malik said softly, "Duke, the **only** reason I went through **any** of this was for you. If it'd just been me…" She shrugged. "I wouldn't have even bothered going to the beach, and I would have worn my normal clothes tonight."

Smiling slightly, Duke said, "Well, I'm glad you did go along with Mai's 'suggestions,' if only because I think you look very nice."

"Thanks," Malik said softly, ducking her head. She was very proud of the fact that she'd managed not to blush at his compliment. She'd become used to them as a matter of course over the last three weeks of their relationship. It did make her wonder if it was just the way Duke was with all his koibitos, or if he was only complimenting her because she was female.

Well, there was only one way to find out for sure, and she had no idea when that would happen. Marik had never stayed away this long before, and she was starting to get worried.

But, if only for tonight, she wanted to forget about her problems and have fun.

"How about we try that dancing thing again?" Malik suggested.

"All right," Duke said agreeably. He drew Malik out onto the dance floor just as a slow song started. He put his arms around her, drawing her into a slow dance.

Malik shivered as his hands came up past the edge of her dress to rest on the small of her back, on the expanse of cocoa-colored skin bared by lavender chiffon. She took in a slow breath and forced herself to relax.

This was **Duke**. She was safe with him.

And that sort of soothing, idle massage thing he'd started up on her knotted muscles felt surprisingly good, too. She'd never had a back rub before – for obvious reasons – apparently she'd been missing a lot more than just romance by shutting other people out.

Involuntarily she cuddled closer to Duke, arms wrapped around his neck, bodies swaying to and fro. She hummed in contentment, almost purring as she lost herself in the music, and the languid movements of their bodies.

Was this what Heaven was like? Being held safe in the arms of her love?

If it wasn't, it should be.

* * *

Of course, nothing that good lasted forever…

"What?" Malik asked.

The waitress – a pretty brunette whose nametag read _Talyn_ in fuchsia and silver script – shrugged one bangle-clad arm and popped her gum. "I said that some guy at the bar sent you this drink. It's already paid for; enjoy." With that, she set the large frosted glass – filled to the brim with a pale blue froth – on the table and sauntered off back to the bar. But not before giggling and saying, "It's funny…he looked like your twin."

Her parting words ringing in Malik's ears, the blonde's lavender eyes widened. _Marik?_

"What is it?" Ryou asked, peering suspiciously at the oddly colored drink.

"I don't know, but I'm not about to drink it," Malik said, pushing the glass away. "I need to go look for Marik, see if he's still here."

"No need," Bakura said, her copy of the Millennium Ring flashing to life on her chest. It glowed briefly, the five points jangling back and forth for a moment, before it went quiescent, the light dying out. She sighed. "Gomen ne, Malik, but I can't feel his copy of the Rod anywhere near here. He's been and gone."

"How did you do that?" Duke asked, staring at Bakura's chest – or, rather, the golden Item now resting around her neck. _I wonder if she used that spell she taught Malik?_

"A spell," Bakura dismissed, before turning back to Malik. "Since when do you turn down a free drink, 'Li? You know Marik wouldn't poison it." She waved at her chest and mumbled something under her breath, the Ring winking out of sight once again as she waited for the answer.

_Seems like it,_ Duke thought. _That's what Malik did when she showed me her back._

Malik rolled her eyes and flushed slightly. "Apparently, that old saying about girls not being able to hold their liquor is true – for me, at least. Remember I told you how Duke and I met?"

Bakura chuckled and nodded; Duke and Ryou smiled slightly.

"Well, if you don't want it, I'll drink it," Bakura said, reaching out for the drink. "That saying has never and will never be true for me. Thank Ra." She plucked the blue paper umbrella out of the glass and took a tentative sip. Swallowing the small mouthful, her eyes went wide.

"What is it?" Malik asked curiously, slightly worried.

Bakura held up one finger and took another sip, tasting it cautiously. When she'd finished that mouthful, she said, "It's actually two different drinks mixed together…I think."

"You think?" Ryou asked. "Why?"

Bakura frowned contemplatively, her eyes narrowing as she stared thoughtfully at the glass. "Well, there's vodka in here, along with peach schnapps, cranberry juice and blue Curacao, which makes one drink – or would, normally. But there's twice as much vodka as there needs to be, and there's also Amaretto, Kahlua, and light cream."

"Okay, so what two drinks does that make?" Duke asked, not being up on the finer points of cocktail mixes.

Ryou also looked clueless, but Malik was snickering into her hand. The third time she, Marik and Bakura had gone drinking together, Marik had convinced them all to try some of the more erotically-named drinks in the bar. It had been an experience she wouldn't soon forget, not the least of which was because Marik had actually been inebriated enough that night to get up and sing karaoke.

Although he did make a pretty good showing considering he'd been singing Right Said Fred's _I'm Too Sexy_ – one of the more comical songs of the late twentieth century – he'd almost gotten them kicked out of the bar by stripping his shirt and…other items of apparel off in accordance with the lyrics. He hadn't been wearing a hat, so he'd had to improvise – with his boxers.

Damn, she wished she'd had a camera to capture it on film. Or at least the look on his face when she'd told him about what he'd done. It was absolutely priceless.

Bakura smirked at her hikari, directing her words only to him. "Well, along with half the vodka, the peach schnapps, cranberry juice and Curacao make up Foreplay…" her smirked widened as she saw Ryou unable to contain his blush, "…and the other half of the vodka, added to the Amaretto, Kahlua, and light cream one is A Screaming Orgasm."

Ryou, knowing by the light in his yami's eyes that he should expect the second drink to be even kinkier than the first, had only pinkened up a bit more. Duke, however, choked on his soda.

"You're kidding!" he finally gasped out, throat vaguely hoarse from coughing.

"Nope," Bakura said easily, expression deadpan.

Malik chuckled lightly. "All you would have had to add is some sloe gin and orange juice and you would have gotten the full treatment, 'Kura-chan," she snickered lightly.

Frowning slightly at the moniker – and because she couldn't figure out what drink those ingredients two made – Bakura narrowed her eyes and asked cautiously, "What do you mean, Mali-chan?"

Malik just quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement. "Well, you've had the Foreplay," here the Egyptian blonde gestured to the glass in front of her friend, "but before you have the Screaming Orgasm, don't you think a Slow, Comfortable Screw would be nice?" She flashed her pearly white teeth in a slightly mocking smile.

Bakura blushed almost as red as her bustier top. Ryou's face was also flaming in a similar hue, but he didn't seem as taken aback as his lover.

Duke, for his part, was just watching the proceedings with a small smile on his face. Spending the past six weeks with Malik had let him get to know her pretty well – but he hadn't had much chance to watch her interact with her friends. He was learning things about her he knew he never would have otherwise. Like the fact that she had a very naughty sense of humor…

Ryou cleared his throat to dispel the tension. "Yes, well…" He looked at Bakura, trying valiantly to keep from bushing. "Maybe you should finish your drink?"

'Before something even more embarrassing happens,' remained unsaid between the four, but it was an obvious implication.

Bakura's reach for her drink was preempted, however. At that moment, the Ring flared to life and visibility on her chest again.

Malik blinked. "Is he back?" she gasped.

Bakura's grin was almost feral. "I do believe so."

Pushing his chair back from the table, Duke rose and offered his date a hand up. "Well, then… Let's go get him."

* * *

For all that he was cleverer by far than someone his apparent – or even mental – age should be…it was surprisingly easy to catch Marik.

Mainly because he wasn't trying to evade them.

"Cheeky little brat," Ryou grumbled under his breath as he caught sight of the aforementioned yami sitting at the bar, sipping a soda, legs swinging back and forth as if he hadn't a care in the world.

Contrary to popularly held belief, neither Ryou **nor** Bakura were very impulsive people. That didn't, however, stop the former from marching over and glaring fiercely at Marik, arms folded across his chest. "Hello, Marik," he said sweetly, foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

"Ryou!" Marik greeted the hikari cheerily, hopping down from the stool, leaving his empty glass on the bar. "How are you this fine evening?"

"Better than Malik is," Bakura growled, coming to stand next to her koibito. "At least **he's** his appropriate gender," she said pointedly, scowling at the wide-eyed look Marik gave her when the other yami caught sight of her attire.

Marik winced and visibly cringed. He gave a sheepish chuckle and ducked his head. "Yeah, about that… Did Malik get my apology drink?"

Ryou snorted, a gesture at odds with his normally refined demeanor. "What kind of apology is sending someone a sexually explicit drink?" he demanded. "Especially considering what you did to **her**?"

Marik shrugged and gave a meek grin. "The only one I could think of on the spur of the moment when I saw you guys here."

Bakura raised one snowy brow. "You didn't plan this?" She gestured to the hustle and bustle of the club-goers around them.

Marik scoffed. "Of course not. You think I wanted to do this in public?" He shook his head. "I hadn't planned on running into you here, but I thought now was as good a time as any to make amends. And those two drinks were the ones Malik liked the most out of all the ones we tried. I figured it was better than nothing."

"Better than begging for forgiveness empty-handed, you mean." Bakura bristled.

"I do not **beg**, tomb-robber," Marik growled, conveniently forgetting the time when he'd begged **her** for his life.

Sensing that things were about to get heated, Malik decided to intervene. Stepping forward, Duke following in her wake, she said, "Marik."

At the sound of his other's voice, Marik whirled around. His eyes going wide, he gaped at the sight of her, obviously stunned by her attire much more than he had been by Bakura's.

But then, Bakura's clothing was just out of character. Malik's was out of gender.

Catching sight of Duke – who'd placed one arm possessively around Malik's waist – Marik's eyes narrowed. "I see you made a new…friend," he said, infusing the last word with veiled innuendo.

Malik nodded curtly. "Well, it wasn't like I could hang out with you these past six weeks, now could I?"

Marik had the grace to look ashamed at that, but quickly covered it up with indignation. "You weren't supposed to be **enjoying** this," he hissed, glaring at his hikari. His eyes raked Duke up and down, clearly insinuating what kind of 'enjoyment' she'd been having.

_Intervention is a bust,_ Malik thought, trying to reign in her temper. _Out of the frying pan, and into the bonfire. _She huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "What, you're mad at me for making the best of a bad situation–"

"Bad?" Duke asked, one eyebrow arched a smile lurking on his lips.

Malik flushed slightly and scowled at her boyfriend before turning back to Marik and amending her words. "–all right, a not-**entirely**-bad situation – that **you **caused?"

"Yeah, Marik, I think it's more than slightly rude of you to be mad that Malik isn't suffering as much from her 'punishment' as you intended her to be," Duke put in.

Marik grumbled under his breath, but otherwise remained silent. A tense silence reigned, until a new party was heard from. Their argument had caught the attention of the other members of their group, and while Yami, Yugi, Téa, Joey, Tristan and Seto hung back, Mai felt compelled to add her two yen to the conversation. She'd never say it, but she had become rather protective of the two newest 'females' in their group, long-repressed maternal instincts coming to the fore as bonds of sisterhood.

Walking up to stand next to the other blonde, Mai gave Marik a hard look. "So, now that you're back…" she started.

"Does that mean you're willing to change me back?" Malik threw in.

Marik looked back and forth between the two blondes, taking in the foreboding expression on Mai's face and the hopeful one on Malik's. It was the second one that did him in. "I might as well," he sighed. "It's not like I have any other choice, considering Bakura's holding a knife on me."

The assembled group of friends and lovers turned to look behind Marik, finding the thief holding a rather wicked-looking dagger in her hand – and pressing it against the small of Marik's back.

Bakura shrugged with the arm that wasn't holding the knife. "I don't like it when people mess with my friends," she said dismissively.

"Aren't **I** one of your friends?" Marik asked, craning his neck to watch her with wary suspicion as he cautiously turned around.

"Yes," Bakura agreed pleasantly. "Which is the reason why I didn't gut you on sight."

Marik gulped and gave a nervous chuckle. "Awfully nice of you, 'Kura."

She just glowered at him. "Fix Malik. Now, twerp."

Sighing, Marik turned to face his hikari. "All right, all right, hold onto your knife," he grumbled. He slipped his copy of the Millennium Rod out of his pants pocket and gestured Malik closer. " C'mere, ane-chan."

Malik scowled as she strode over, coming to a stop not a foot away from her yami/brother. "I can still beat you up with one hand tied behind my back, Marik," she warned him.

Marik rolled his eyes. "I know, I know," he said sarcastically. He held the Millennium Rod out in front of him, the Udjat Eye on the scepter-like end facing towards Malik. Releasing the twin blades from the golden 'wings' on either side of the Eye, he closed his eyes and focused his command of the Shadow power, causing the Item to glow with a bright light, bathing his hikari in its luminescence.

Luckily their small group blocked the sight from any passersby, or Marik might have had to wipe the crowd's memories of his little magical display.

The glow of the Rod diminished into nothingness as Marik lowered it back to his side, blades retracting. His indigo eyes snapping open, he stared at Malik.

Who appeared unchanged from her female state.

"That's it?" Duke demanded disbelievingly.

"Aa," Marik agreed, shrugging carelessly.

"But Malik's still a girl," Téa pointed out.

Marik blinked. "Of course she is. This isn't an instantaneous transformation, you know."

"No, actually, we didn't know," Malik said sarcastically. One sandaled foot tapped impatiently against the floor. "Why am I still female, Marik?"

Marik heaved a sigh. "Do you remember when you first realized you were female, hikari?" he asked in caustic tones.

"I woke up that way," Malik answered immediately, not needing to think about it in order to remember. She'd spent the past six weeks analyzing everything that had happened before **and** after her transformation and had all but memorized the events.

"Exactly," Marik said, sounding as if he wanted to add 'Duh!' to the end of his one-word statement. "I cast the spell before you went to bed, and you changed in your sleep. It would be painful if you were awake for it – considering your body was changing on the atomic level – therefore, I had you change while you were unconscious. You'll revert to your true body the same way you changed in the first place."

"Which means…" Malik prompted testily, inwardly unable to help a smile as she heard what Marik **didn't** say – that despite the fact that he was angry with her, he hadn't wanted to hurt her with the spell.

"That you'll go to sleep tonight female, and wake up male," Marik said slowly, as if speaking to a young child.

Malik gave her yami a measuring look, searching for any hint of deceit hiding in his indigo eyes. There was none; his expression was as open and honest as it ever got – which wasn't very, except with her, his hikari. Finally she gave him a curt nod and said, "All right. I believe you."

Marik shuffled his feet nervously and looked down at the floor, unable to face her. "I am…sorry…about this whole thing," he said softly, not wanting to be overheard.

Malik softened. She knew better than anyone how hard a time Marik had had adjusting to having his own body. It wasn't an excuse – especially not for turning his hikari into a **girl** for **six weeks** – but it was at least a glimmer of an explanation.

At least she knew it wasn't because he'd been bored – which was why he'd done a kamikaze raid on those pigeons in the park the one time she'd tried to teach him to drive her motorcycle.

"I know," she replied, voice equally as low. _I forgive you,_ she sent through their link, breathing a silent sigh of relief as she felt that he wasn't blocking her out anymore. It had been difficult getting used to sharing her mind with Marik at first, but once he'd gotten his own body, he only kept the link closed when he was mad at her – or when he was hiding from her, as he had been for the past month and a half – and his sudden departure from the back of her thoughts for such a **long** time had left her feeling rather…empty. More alone than she ever thought she'd feel with him gone.

It was good to have him back.

_Thanks,_ he sent back, giving her a small, yet genuine smile. She smiled back and resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Marik started, remembering where they were. Coloring slightly, he turned and walked back to the bar, picking up his drink.

Malik resisted the urge to shake her head at his forced nonchalance. Marik was, for all that he'd grown up a lot in the ensuing months since his materialization, still a typical guy. Emotions really bothered him – probably because he'd never had much experience with them, aside from the more negative ones.

Not that Malik was all that much better, but at least she could manage to accept an apology with some amount of grace and goodwill.

Giving a mental eye roll at the predictability of her other, Malik turned to walk back over to the group of waiting friends. Before she'd taken two steps, she was accosted by her boyfriend. "Huh?" She made a questioning noise and turned her back to the curious glances she was receiving from the aforementioned group.

"Are you sure he's telling the truth?" Duke whispered in Malik's ear, flicking a glance towards Marik. He obviously didn't want to broadcast his doubts to the group at large – or the yami in question.

Marik was watching the two carefully, unaware he was observed in his surreptitious endeavors. Malik, however, knew how good Marik's hearing was – and that despite her declaration of forgiveness, Marik would still be feeling guilty and need more reassurance. "He's never lied to me before," she answered, voice low, but pitched to carry across the few yards towards the bar. "And I don't believe he'd start now."

Out of the corner of her eye, Malik caught the sight of a small smile creeping unbidden across Marik's lips, before he scowled at her and Duke's cozy proximity and stalked out of the bar.

Slightly crestfallen at her yami's reaction to her koi – but having expected it, since Marik always got jealous when she spent time with anyone who wasn't him – Malik sighed and leaned back into said boyfriend's comforting embrace as they walked over to rejoin the group. "Take me home, Duke," she requested, looking beseechingly up into his jade green eyes. "The sooner we get home, the sooner I can go to sleep." _And the sooner this whole crazy thing will be over and I can talk to Marik without wanting to strangle him._

"And the sooner you can get your dick back," Bakura joked. Having sheathed her knife once Marik disappeared from sight, she was now standing next to Ryou once more.

Duke snorted.

Malik rolled her eyes at her friend's characteristic bluntness. "Exactly," she agreed.

Tilting her head to the side, Téa rolled her eyes at the juvenile behavior. Female Malik might be – for the moment – but her mind was obviously still male. And Bakura…

Well, she'd best not let her thoughts dwell on that, or she'd lose what little was left of her sanity after all the Shadow Realm craziness that had happened in Domino City.

"Glad your time as a girl is almost over?" Téa directed her question to Malik.

The platinum blonde nodded vigorously. "**So** glad," she said happily. "I cannot **wait** to get home."

"Speaking of going home…" Bakura said leadingly, inclining her head towards the exit. "It is getting rather late." Not that midnight was all that late – especially considering all the members of the assembled group were teenagers – but considering all that had happened, a somewhat early night would not be a bad idea.

"Yes, we really should be going," Ryou agreed, eyes widening as his girlfriend's hand strayed from its normal position around his waist and went venturing into territory further south. He resolutely kept himself from squeaking as she pinched his ass, but couldn't hold back his blush. Thankfully, his red cheeks went mostly unnoticed in the colored lights of the club.

'_Kura?_ he sent a tentative question.

Hesitation and desire filtered down their link. _Sorry, I just…_

Want you.

Though the last two words remained unsaid, Ryou could tell what they would have been. Isis may have held the Millennium Tauk, but sometimes you didn't need a magical Item to see what might have been.

"Me, too," he whispered, one hand reaching out for hers and giving it a firm squeeze. _Always._

Bakura smiled softly at him, and they turned to go, oblivious to the looks they were receiving from Malik and Duke.

They were stopped in mid-egress, snapped out of their love-induced reverie by Yugi's voice.

"Oh, hey, wait!" Yugi piped up, waving to catch the other yami/hikari pair's attention. Seeing that he'd done so – but was receiving something akin to a death glare from Bakura – he quickly said, "Before all you guys leave – I was thinking about holding an end of summer 'one last bash before we have to go back to school' party. Would you be up for it?"

"Sounds like fun," Duke put in, and Malik nodded her agreement.

Bakura just looked at Ryou for the answer, unable to concentrate enough of her cogitation on the question to actually come up with one of her own. Besides, it wasn't like she'd go unless he wanted to, so it made sense to find out what his opinion was.

"I'm up for it," Ryou managed to get out, tearing his attention away from his lover long enough to focus on Yugi. "Call us with the details, all right?" he said raggedly, inching further towards the exit.

"Will do." Yugi nodded, and the four said their farewells to the group.

"Ja ne!" Ryou called as they exited the bar.

As he watched until the four were out of sight, Yugi asked Yami, "You think things will finally start getting back to normal around here? Now that Malik's going to be back to **his** old self?"

Yami snorted. "Normal? Since when have things ever been normal around here, aibou?"

Téa chuckled. "Too true."

"Yeah," Tristan added. "Most we can hope for is that things don't get any weirder."

Joey nodded in agreement.

Seto scoffed, startling the other five, as this was the first time in the evening they'd spoken with him. "Normal for this group **is** weird. The status quo has always been that something out of the ordinary is going on. If something unusual wasn't happening, **then** I'd worry."

Mai titled her head in acknowledgment of her lover's words. "He has a point. Weird is business as usual for us."

"Yeah, but how much weirder could it get?" Joey asked. "I mean, Bakura turnin' out ta be a girl was pretty odd. And Marik turnin' Malik **inta **a girl was even weirder. But da only thing that could surpass dat is **all** of us ending up as girls." He grinned. "And what are da chances of dat happenin'?"

They all burst out into peals of laughter – save Seto, who shivered, awareness of being observed by a not-quite malevolent presence prickling at the back of his neck – none of them noticing that the bane of Malik's sanity – also know as Marik – was lurking in the shadows.

Lurking in the shadows, a wicked gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face.

* * *

The next morning dawned warm and sunny, a harbinger of a beautiful day.

Even more beautiful than the bishounen gracing his bed, Duke thought.

Malik had been on edge with Marik's reversal of the spell, and hadn't wanted to spend the night alone. Not that they had actually slept in separate beds since that day at the beach, but this was the first time Malik had had any reservations about it.

Probably because, not only was 'she' worried about whether or not she really would wake up as a guy again – not that she doubted Marik's word, but what if he'd done the spell wrong? – but also how Duke would handle going to sleep next to a girl, and waking up next to a guy.

Despite the fact that Malik had wanted to try and get to sleep as soon as they'd gotten back home, she'd been apprehensive about actually getting into bed.

But only until Duke had started the pillow fight.

Fifteen minutes, four pillows, three instances of bedside table ambushes, two knocked-askew lampshades and one tussle on the floor over the right to wield the blue cotton comforter as a weapon later, her concerns had evaporated. They'd both collapsed on the bed, cuddled up to each other, laughing as feathers drifted around them, the bedroom a total mess.

With the cessation of the pillow fight, Malik's uncertainty about staying with him that night also left. Though it did take quite a while before she was able to fall asleep, her nervousness keeping her so rigid and tense that she was unable to relax for over an hour. Even when she had drifted off into the land of Nod, Duke stayed awake awhile longer, just watching over her. It would be his last chance to see Malik as a girl, and for all that he knew she hadn't entirely enjoyed the experience…he would miss 'her.'

But 'he' would be there to take 'her' place, so it wasn't as if he would actually be missing an important part of his life. Though Malik would probably move out once he was back to normal…

Finally, sometime after two-thirty, his doubts and fears were subsumed by his tiredness. He was unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

When he next opened them, Malik was a guy once more.

* * *

It wasn't the warmth of the rising sun, or the light of said yellow star that woke him from his deep slumber. It was the feeling of being watched – watched with desirous intent – that did it.

Muffling a jaw-cracking yawn with the pillow beneath his head, Malik's eyelids fluttered up and he gazed blearily at his bedmate.

His bedmate whose wide-awake, jade green eyes were focused on him, a silly little smile on his lips.

"Good morning, beautiful," Duke said lightheartedly.

_Beautiful?_ Malik thought wryly, a tinge of pleasure at the term making his lips turn up slightly despite his irritation at the much-too-early in the morning awakening. _What, Devlin, you have a thing for bed hair and pillow creases on skin?_ Malik rolled his eyes as best he could while his face was still mashed half into the pillow. "What's good about…it?" He blinked and looked cross-eyed at his mouth from which his words had just left. His mouth from which had his words had just left in his **male** voice. Shooting straight up in the bed, he stared down at his chest – his once again **flat** chest.

"Well, not that I really had a problem with you being a girl, but I thought **you** would consider it a good thing that you're not anymore," Duke said teasingly, rising up to sit next to Malik.

"Oh, I do," Malik agreed with alacrity, still staring down at his T-shirt-clad chest. Throwing reticence out the window, along with modesty, he quickly pulled off his shirt so that he could become reacquainted with the sight of his masculine body. "No more bras – ever. Thank Ra," he said with ardent zeal.

Duke snickered at his koi's actions, drawing Malik's attention to him.

_Ack! I forgot he was watching._ Coloring, Malik resisted the urge to try and sink through the floor. He instead covered up his discomfort by quickly turning around and pulling his shirt back on. _I don't really mind him seeing my back – who am I kidding, of course I do – but I would prefer not to act like an exhibitionist and put it on display._ "What?" the blond demanded testily of his lover. "What is so funny?" _Even if he could read hieroglyphics, it's not like I've got 'Egypt's Funniest Home Tablets' emblazoned on my back…_

Duke shook his head, averting his gaze so his boyfriend couldn't see the mirth shining in his eyes. "It's nothing," he dismissed.

Malik cocked one golden brow. "Oh?" There was a wealth of meaning in that one syllable.

"Well…"

"Yes?" Malik prompted.

"I was just thinking…" Duke started.

"A new endeavor for you, I'm sure," Malik interrupted, a smile on his face.

Duke scowled, glaring at the laughing Egyptian standing in front of him. "I was just thinking that you probably jinxed yourself by saying that you'd never have to wear a bra again."

Malik's brow furrowed. "Huh?"

Shrugging, Duke said, "The universe loves irony, and it would be only too ironic if you ended up a girl again sometime in the near future."

Eyes going wide with shock, Malik said, "Don't even **say** that!"

Duke chuckled. "You know it's true." He looked thoughtful. "It'd be even more ironic if I ended up as one as well."

_Talk about jinxing things…_ Making a noise of disgust, Malik shoved the covers off and climbed out of bed. "I'm leaving before this conversation gets even more surreal. I'm gonna go take a shower," he said, heading for the bathroom.

Duke smirked at his koi's retreating back. "Let me guess – you're planning to spend the next couple of hours staring at yourself in the mirror, aren't you?"

Malik froze, blinking startled violet eyes at the doorway as he processed Duke's not-quite-a-question. _How in the world…?_ "That's kinda creepy that you know me so well," he said, slowly turning back around to face Duke.

Duke just raised one raven brow.

"That's actually what I was planning to do," Malik explained, laughing a little at his own foolishness. _But I have a right to be foolish – I haven't seen my dick in six weeks!_ he thought defensively. "How'd you know?"

Duke shrugged, trying to hide his pleased blush at Malik's smile behind his bed-mussed hair. "Because that's what I'd do if I spent six weeks as a girl and just got my own body back." A calculating look came over his face.

_What is that look for? He's up to something…_ "What?" Malik frowned slightly and cocked one platinum blond brow in question.

Feigning nonchalance, Duke looked away from Malik's probing gaze, instead taking the chance to examine his fingernails. "Well, it's just that I've spent the past six weeks with you as a girl, and I haven't really spent all that much time with you as a guy…"

"And?" Malik prompted. _I'm not sure I like where this is going…_ he thought.

_Though, I don't necessarily **not** like where it's going… _a little voice – he thought of it as his 'Inner Isis' since it always seemed to want what was best for him, but also always seemed to be diametrically opposed to his subconscious, (plus it had first shown up a few days after he'd been turned into a girl) – countered. _At least not yet._

Duke grinned and gave him a suggestive look. "And, if you wouldn't mind, I'd kinda like to spend the next couple of hours with you."

_Staring at my naked body in the mirror,_ Malik thought, not quite able to wrap his mind around that thought. _He…wants to see me naked?_

_That's a good thing, right? _his Inner Isis prodded.

_Well…yeah, _he admitted. _But why do I get the feeling I'm going to be cutting my self-admiration celebration short in favor of more…carnal activities?_

His Inner Isis snorted. _Because he's obviously hot for you, and you're hot for him._

Malik blushed at the blunt tone his inner voice had taken. _But that doesn't mean I'm going to just jump right into bed with him, _he countered.

Mirth bubbled up from Inner Isis. _It doesn't?_

Heaving a mental sigh, Malik ruefully admitted that maybe his own personal internal Devil's Advocate was right. He had always been impulsive, and holding himself back from what he wanted – whether it be world domination, the Pharaoh's power, the last piece of triple chocolate fudge cake, or, in this case, sex with Duke Devlin – had never been his style.

Realizing that he'd been lost in his own internal musings for a few minutes and Duke was still waiting not-so-patiently for an answer, Malik decided to rejoin the land of the consciously aware and answer Duke's implied question. "I'll make a deal with you – I'll let you ogle me if you help me get this thrice-damned nail polish off," he bargained, holding up one lavender-manicured hand.

Duke's eyes lit up. "Deal," he agreed. He jumped off the bed and headed over to Malik. Glancing at Malik's hand, he stifled a snort and asked, "How did you ever let Mai talk you into that anyway?"

"Who said there was talking involved?" Malik asked, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "She did it without even asking me – just like everything else involving my appearance last night." She frowned. "You have no idea how annoying it was having to sit there for over an hour while she put all that make-up on me."

"An hour to put on something that took you two minutes and a warm washcloth to remove." Duke snorted. "Doesn't seem worth it."

"I don't think so, either – but you weren't complaining last night," Malik pointed out. "I think the word 'beautiful' was bandied about a few times…" _More than a few times,_ Malik thought with self-conscious pleasure, before his musings took a downward turn. _But I wonder… Now that I'm male again, does he feel the same way? Beautiful is for girls – or so most people think._

_Most people are idiots, _his Inner Isis spoke up.

_True._

Duke, however, for all that he didn't possess any Millennium Item, let alone Isis' Tauk – or even Malik's Inner Isis' innate ability to understand Malik – seemed to be able to read Malik's mind. "You are very beautiful, Malik," he said matter-of-factly, one hand coming up to cup the Egyptian's cheek. "That doesn't rely on any amount of makeup or fancy clothing."

"It doesn't?" Malik asked faintly.

Duke shook his head and grinned lasciviously, pointedly looking Malik's body up and down. "I'd think you were beautiful naked."

Snorting at his boyfriend's antics, Malik said, "Well, you'll get the chance to test that hypothesis in just a few minutes, won't you?"

"Yes, I do believe so," Duke agreed readily.

Malik shook his head. "You're incorrigible, Dev."

"Well, then you'll just have to do your best to 'corrige' me then, won't you?" Duke joked.

"That isn't a word," Malik said laughingly.

"If it isn't, then it should be," Duke replied easily.

Malik rolled his eyes. "Sure it should. It should be in the dictionary right before Dungeon Dice Monsters," Malik said facetiously. "Definition: noun. Greatest dice game on the face of the planet. And in parentheses: 'or so says its creator.'" He smirked at the expression on Duke's face.

"How dare you mock the greatness that is Dungeon Dice Monsters?" Duke demanded, pretending to be appalled. His expression of dismay melted into a pout and he shook his head, tut-tutting under his breath. "If I didn't love you so much, I'd pelt you with some of my dice."

Malik's eyes went wide. "L-love?" he mouthed, barely any sound behind it. He swallowed. "You're kidding, right?" he asked almost plaintively. _Last week…I know that he said something like that, but those three little words have more than one meaning. Japanese is funny about things like that._

Duke's eyes softened at the sight of his koi's panic. Malik could risk life and limb in a life or death game of Duel Monsters without breaking a sweat, but he didn't handle emotional commitments all that well.

_Not like I'm all that much better,_ Duke thought wryly. Keeping a sharp eye on the Egyptian directly in front of him who was currently masquerading as a scared bunny rabbit to make sure said rabbit didn't bolt, he shook his head. "No. I'm not kidding," Duke said softly. "I realize this may seem sudden, but…I like you." He chuckled ruefully. "**More** than like you, obviously."

Malik smiled tentatively, silently urging him to continue.

Duke obliged. "I enjoy spending time with you. You understand me better than almost anyone. And…" He let out a deep breath and looked Malik in the eye. "I'm really going to miss you once you move back in with your family. The shop seems so empty when you're not there." He ducked his head and murmured, "The shop, here at home…my life…"

Malik's breath caught in his throat. _I don't want to leave him, either. Does that mean I love him?_ Swallowing the lump that had formed where that shuddering gasp had halted, he said, "I…I've never been in love before, so I don't know if what I'm feeling now is love." He licked his suddenly dry lips and continued, "But, I…I think I might be…with you." His smile was blindingly bright despite the happy tears gathering in his violet eyes. "And even if I'm not, I…I think I could learn to love you."

The sweetness of hearing those words washed over Duke, bringing a rare, truly genuine smile to his own lips, one that wasn't in the least bit phony or forced because of expectations. " Hope you'll help me with the lessons," he returned softly, before leaning forward the scant few inches needed and kissing Malik with unrestrained gentleness.

Malik had time for just two thoughts before he was lost in the haze of passion they were creating. How he could ever have doubted Duke's feelings for him, Malik would never know.

And two: that getting reacquainted with his male self could wait awhile. Whatever carnal activities that ensued from this kiss would take precedence.

Hey, one had to have their priorities, right? And right at this moment in time, Malik's number one priority was Duke.

* * *

To Be Concluded In _Everybody Switch!_


End file.
